Winter's Color
by Klandestinee
Summary: Arkham has been renovated. New employees, kid friendly walls, and natural drugs to make the place seem just a little better. Mira Thorne has been hired, only to find that the job entails some undisclosed information, and that a certain scarecrow might have the upper hand. Takes place after the events of Dark Knight Rises. Crane/OC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Her eyes flickered across the papers behind thick glasses, chewing her cracked lips and mumbling random words beneath her breath. I sat in an uncomfortable chair just across from her, lightly tapping my heel in anticipation and waiting for a response. The plucky woman finally set the papers down and smiled at me, blinking her grey eyes abnormally. _Why are you so weird?_

"You like working night shift?" She proposed. Her cheerleader voice was just was awkward as her fluttery lashes.

"I mean, I've never done it before." I admitted with a shrug.

She nodded her head slowly before pushing her lilac sleeves to her elbows. "We _really_ need someone for nights." The lady spoke in a sing song voice.

I felt my eyes widen in annoyance, quickly trying to hide it with a smile as I noticed her stare. "I'm up for anything." I grinned to her, remembering that I really just needed a goddamn job.

"That's wonderful, Ms. Thorne." She straightened up, smoothing down her blonde ponytail. "I just need to ask a few questions."

I watched her pull out a red folder from her dingy file cabinet, flipping through the papers and occasionally licking her finger. Finally, she pulled out a sheet and smoothed it out on a clipboard before clicking a blue pen. I stared out the window, watching the snow fall onto the branches gracefully. Winter was always my favorite season.

"Do you have children?"

I gasped, a little startled by her voice. "Oh no." I smiled, wondering why she would ask me something like that.

"Are you married?"

"No."

"Do you have any close family in Gotham?"

"…No." I raised my eyebrow. "I didn't realize these questions pertained to my nursing career."

The woman tilted her head and smiled. "Just routine questions."

 _Routine questions?_

I shut the door behind me after wrapping up my final words with the strange interviewer, one hundred percent sure that the job was lost to me. I breathed in cold air and released, listening to my heels click onto the snow covered side walk. My hair blew in front of my face slowly, tickling the pink end of my nose. I sighed calmly, loving the way the white snow contrasted with my coal colored strands. Yes, winter suited me well; Oversized sweaters to hide my body and plenty of reasons to stay inside with a good cup of coffee and a hot bowl of chili. I couldn't deny it.

A jingle began to play as I passed an alley, giving me a bit of a scare before I fumbled through my pocketed sweater to answer the call.

"This is Mira." I answered.

"Hello Ms. Thorne! Would you mind coming in tonight at nine?" I recognized the woman's voice from the office.

"You want me to come back to the office?" I asked, bewildered by the request.

"We've decided that we would like to hire you for the position. If you would please come to Arkham, we can proceed with the process."

There was a pause, then a dial tone.

The mysterious interview intrigued me. Had I thought logically, I would have backed out. Something in the pit of my stomach bothered me, telling me that I was safer in the comfort of a coffee shop or a supermarket. However, I had not gone into the field to squander my education and resort to serving customers on their own time. I desired a challenge. Everything about my life prior to moving was unbearably lackluster, despite the losses and bridges I burned beforehand.

I awoke from an unfulfilling nap, throwing my blanket to the side and glancing at the red numbers on the clock before trudging over to my dresser. I pulled out some green scrubs I had acquired from my last job, stripping off my old clothes and slipping the new ones over my head. They were a little bigger than they used to be, probably due to my poor eating habits.

With a sigh, I started brushing my hair and realized that my reflection was a complete mess. I fell back onto the bed and lazily braided my hair, throwing the black fishtail over my left shoulder and slipping on some tennis shoes and a college sweater. Half of me told myself I still had another chance to stay, but I pushed that thought away and headed out the apartment door, locking it behind me.

When I arrived to Arkham, I realized I was actually ten minutes late. I groaned as I stepped out of the car, locking it up behind me and hurrying to the dark doors. It took me a few moments to locate the proper entrance, as the night was black and so were the walls of the asylum. Not only that, but here were no sounds from the outside, not even the sound of crickets.

Frustrated and cold, I turned around to search for a sign of life to let me in. That was when I heard the creaking.

"What…" I whispered.

The large doors had opened, and then I saw the lights flicker on.

"Shit." I said.

I stepped inside cautiously, greeted by the same woman conducting my interview. She wore pink scrubs, with her straw like hair tied into a ballerina bun and a fake smile wiped across her face. I hurried inside, reeling from the frigid air.

"Thank you for coming, Ms. Thorne." I walked beside her down the short hall, approaching an elevator.

"Are we the only people here?" I shuddered, taking note of the empty check in desk. For the most part, everything seemed pretty kosher. Fliers urging alcoholics to attend meetings were pinned on boards, as well as childlike paintings with the words 'hope' and 'strength' scribbled upon them.

"The patients are downstairs." She chirped. "We have gone through some renovations; making the place a little less…dreary."

"Oh." I nodded my head, watching her bony finger push the button.

She put her hands on her hips. "However, this is an _asylum._ I suppose no matter what color you paint it, it won't change the fact that we house some of the most insane subjects known to man."

I widened my eyes, shocked at her sudden change of tone. She was like a soccer mom who used to be a college cheerleader in her day, retaining her prime day enthusiasm, but finding new anxieties as her days passed. Maybe she enjoyed working here. Maybe taking care of the crazies and handling business at the asylum was one of her dark pleasures. I wondered if she had children or not. Somehow I could see her children being embarrassed by her odd demeanor.

When the doors opened, I observed how drastic everything changed. Instead of the kid friendly area I had seen prior, I was led down a dingy hallway with flickering lights.

"I reckon the renovations didn't include a change of lights." I quipped. She ignored me. I hated being ignored.

We stopped at a door with a gold sign that read "Lab." She opened it with a silver key, allowing me to enter before shutting it behind her. When she turned on the lights, I noticed that they thankfully didn't flicker like the others. I sat down on one of the black rolling chairs, childishly giving one turn around the lab.

She pulled out a thick needle from the drawer, sticking it into a jar full of clear substance and pulling back the syringe. "At ten PM, we administer a dose of natural medicines to the patients in order to put them to sleep. About thirty minutes after that, we do our rounds."

"Natural medicines?" I inquired.

"Arkham has committed itself to the use of natural medicines. There are exceptions, of course."

I sighed deeply and nodded in understanding. "I will be safe, won't I?" The name tag on her scrubs glistened, complete with her perky picture and name, "Jessica Sterling."

"There are risks, but our patient restraints are efficient as well as the drugs." She gave me a cheeky grin, pulling out another syringe. "Besides, this is why you will be getting paid well. The risk of the job and your confidentiality agreement are worth an exceptional amount alone. When you top that off with your education and flexibility, you make for a worthy employee."

I smirked awkwardly, happy about the compliment but a little uneasy too. By the time Jessica was finished with the syringes, she placed them on a silver tray next to some cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol on a blue cart. I noticed the syringes had labels on them, probably according to the patient they were administered to. Funny, I don't remember pre-drawing medicine beforehand, but I reckon there were a lot of strange things that I had yet to encounter.

"So where are you from originally?" Jessica asked as we walked out of the lab with the cart.

"South Dakota." I answered quietly. "I was raised in Sioux City."

She flipped up a cover to reveal a set of buttons, punching in a code. "So are you Native American? Your features suggest it."

I shook my head, not surprised by the common question. "My mom was Mexican-American. My dad was from Canada."

Jessica laughed as she cracked open the door. "Quite diverse."

I stood by the cart quietly, waiting for her to proceed through the door. Instead, Jessica looked at me with lingering eyes. Finally I asked, "Are you coming?"

She smiled, looking down at the cart before meeting my eyes. "The patients are quite perturbed by my presence. Which is why, we've acquired a skilled nurse who already knows how to perform." Jessica leaned in closely with a giggle. "They call me the Jester."

My eyebrow couldn't raise itself any higher. She laughed at my confusion, and handed me a folder. "This contains all of the information you need." Jessica pointed to a door across from the lab. "The office is in there, where you can watch the patients in each of their cells on video. You can read and even watch a movie as long as you make sure your rounds are finished."

"So I'm just babysitting." I said flatly.

"I think you'll enjoy it." Jessica tilted her head with a grin. "Just start at the beginning of the hall and work your way down, follow the charts."

I watched Jessica trot to the elevator. She entered, spinning on her heel and waving to me before the doors closed.

"Some orientation." I sighed before turning to the cart and pushing through the door.

Metal doors with tiny windows made up the long hallway. When I listened closely, I could hear the muffled words of patients talking to themselves. No, that was impossible. I surely couldn't hear them through the heavy doors? Maybe the sense of the hospital was already turning my brains inside out.

The lights continued to flicker, but I soon got used to it. The adrenaline pumped through my veins as I tightened my fist around the cart, thrilled and terrified. I caught the scent of danger and I loved it. Yes, I can think logically and understand that this could get me injured, but I also understood how much I loved it.

 _Where should I start?_

I pulled off my sweater and shoved it in the bottom of the cart. The numbers and names on the syringes coincided with the patients in each cell, making it quite easy to begin. "Cell # 1, N. Marks."

Nathan Marks was only eighteen, and seemingly scared out of his mind. His gingery hair curled at the nape of his pale neck, and I could see his body shake beneath a pair of dirty scrubs. The young man sat on his cot, looking straight ahead. Hands and feet were restrained by sturdy leather attached to the wall, giving him access to the toilet positioned just a few feet from his cot.

"Hello, Nathan. I'm Nurse Thorne, I'll be checking up on you tonight."

He glanced over and acknowledged me before sticking his arm out. The kid knew what was coming, and I decided to take advantage of his cooperation. I quickly, but gently, held his arm and pushed the drugs through his vein. After dabbing his arm with the cotton swab, I pushed two fingers to his wrist to check his heart rate.

"You seem cold. I can check for another blanket in the office."

Nathan ignored me. Truth be told, I had no idea if there would be a blanket in the office, but I wanted to be nice. Then again, this kid was probably playing me pretty good considering he was locked up here in the first place. I decided to leave it alone, and shut the door behind me with a sigh. Nathan was a bit of an underwhelming case. He made me feel somewhat depressed, and I started to hope for a patient to serve as a pick me up. I understood they were patients and not here to entertain me, but I missed the care and bonding. Strange to say, I missed some of the old hacks at my previous job.

The next syringe was full of a darker liquid, and I wondered if this patient was too insane for the natural medicines Arkham swore by. I checked the notes and charts that Jessica left, and noted a particular message about patient number two. My chest tightened.

"Do not engage in heavy conversation with patient #2."

 _Well that was short and sweet._ I picked up the syringe to see who I wouldn't be talking to tonight.

"Patient #2, J. Crane. Oh, I should have known."

 _Maybe he's asleep._

I fumbled with the key to his room and opened the door slowly, letting out an overdramatic creak. Slowly, I pushed the cart in and saw a thin man of average height. He was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with eyes seemingly made of the purest crystal. I sighed, picking up the syringe and reminding myself not to engage in conversation.

 _Talk to him, Mira. He's cuter in person._

Dr. Crane didn't size up to the reputation I read about online. The only thing intimidating about him was the overall general look in his face. I couldn't read him, but I knew he was dangerous either way. Part of me thought I could take him in hand to hand combat if it came to it, seeing how underwhelming his body appeared as he stretched slyly over the sheets. Still, he was cute.

I watched his pouty lips turn into a grin, and then his eyes inched up and down my body "Where's the blonde?" Crane inquired in a smooth, flawless voice.

 _To speak or not to speak?_

I grabbed his arm gently, just like I did with Nathan. Crane did have pretty limbs, with no signs of drug use or self inflicted scars. They were a simple and untainted color, with nicely hydrated veins. After I injected the needle into his skin, my eyes wandered to his lips to see them part slightly. Quickly, I finished with the dosage and grabbed a cotton swab to clean up the blood seeping from the prick. The sooner I was finished, the better. Something about him was a little much for me. His confident silence was disturbing.

"At least tell me your name." He requested, still resting in the same position.

I hesitated, keeping my eyes away from his face and turning back to the cart.

"Mira Thorne."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 _Thank god for coffee._

I brought the white cup to my lips, sipping lightly on the heavily sugared contents. The waitress swung by with a few sweets for my companion and I, placing a can of whipped cream by the plate. Jo grabbed it instantly, smothering her pie until you could no longer tell what she was eating.

"I love breakfast in the evening." Jo mumbled with her mouth full of cream. I sliced off a pat of butter and smeared it on the hot muffin, watching blankly as it melted.

"Dessert you mean?"

"Sure." Jo said, poking her fork into the abyss of cream. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

"I started working at Arkham a week ago." I informed her with a sigh. I hadn't even been there for a month, but the work began to take a toll on my body. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw black bags hang beneath my eyes. My skin wasn't getting any light from the sun, so I thought about visiting a tanning salon to retain some color. Naturally, I couldn't rouse myself from my bed to do so. I remained paler than milk.

"Oh, how has that been?" Jo asked.

"Pretty boring." I insisted. "It does pay well, though." I neglected to tell her certain items on account of my confidentiality agreement.

"So that's not where the bruise came from?"

"What bruise?"

"The one on your jaw."

I pulled out my cell phone to take a peak in the reflection. Sure enough, a purple and green mark stretched from my chin to the back of my jaw. I didn't deny the pain; I had felt it ever since I woke up at four. Still, I wasn't about to tell Jo what happened. I looked at her shimmery grey eyes and smiled.

"No, actually…I was with a guy." I laughed. She furrowed her brow in bewilderment. Oh yes, I knew how to play this game.

Jo grabbed her fork and cut up what was left of her sweet, stuffing her face. "You're saying a guy hit you?"

I nodded, stirring up a lie. "One of my ex's came to visit and thought we could catch up. I guess by catching up, he meant it in every way."

Her eyes widened. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "You should have called someone, Mira."

I shrugged her off, assuring her that he left town. I really did have a crazy ex- boyfriend, but he never hit me. I drew upon his behavior to conjure up my little lie. Then I recalled patient seven, a skinny girl with mousy brown hair and tall stature. Patient seven had great blood pressure and shitty veins.

"Lily, I'm here to take care of you." I opened the door slowly, pushing the cart in. I held the syringe, ticking the glass to ensure the bubbles would disappear. Lily remained quiet, sitting up straight on the cot with blank eyes staring into space. When I reached over for her arm, I thought Lily would be easy.

The glass shattered on the floor, spilling medicine everywhere. I felt nails digging into my wrist and watched thick blood drip down slowly. Lily looked at me, eyes wild and red. Every time I thought of that look on her face, I felt her hitting me all over again.

"Mira?"

Red eyes turned to grey, and I realized I had been staring at Jo incessantly. She squeezed my hands again reassuringly. "You seem like you're doing okay. Maybe we'll plan something when you get a night off."

I nodded, breaking myself free of the memory completely. We took care of the bill and headed out to the cold snow, parting ways. I slung my purse over my shoulder tightly and treaded back to my car. Suddenly my phone began to ring.

"Hello?" I answered, jacking the heat in my car to the max.

"Hello, Mira. It's Jessica from Arkham. Do you have a moment?" She requested. I double checked the time, shocked that she would call me a few hours before my shift.

"Sure."

I listened to Jessica cough. "Would you mind coming as soon as possible? We have to discuss a few things."

"Yes, of course."

"Great! I'll see you soon." She sounded overjoyed.

I sped over to Arkham as quick as I could. I wish I had gone back to the apartment for a change of clothes instead. It wasn't that big of a deal since Arkham paid me enough money to replace my wardrobe three times over. If a patient wanted to tear up my blouse, then so be it. I thoroughly enjoyed the pay, but I hadn't had much of a chance to splurge. However, I did all the good things, like pay rent and fill my car up with gas. Life wasn't so bad right now. _Don't speak too soon, Mira._

The pretty blue clock hanging in the waiting room showed seventeen after seven. Suddenly little miss Sterling came around the corner wearing her pastel wardrobe with a pen and clipboard in her arms. "Follow me, Mira."

I followed her into the elevator and waited awkwardly to reach the lowest level. Once again, I felt the lights flicker forcefully before entering the office located across from the lab. She sat delicately in the swivel chair, scribbling something on the clipboard before checking the time on her watch. More scribbles sounded in my ear as I took a seat next to her, staring at the mahogany desk.

"How has your first week been?" She finally said, taking a quick peek from over her board.

I sighed and placed my hands in my lap. "It's been well, thanks."

She raised an eyebrow, and I felt her eyes scan the edge of me. "Will you tell me about the incident with patient seven?"

My shoulders stiffened. I never reported the incident to anyone, so I wasn't sure about how they knew unless Lily told them. Yet somehow I didn't see Lily as much of a talker. "I was about to give Lily her nightly dosage…and then she assaulted me."

She started writing on her clipboard again.

"I'm sorry I didn't report the incident."

I watched her continue writing. The urge to roll my eyes was a bitch, but I refrained. She suddenly drew a breath and pursed her lips, setting her clipboard back down. "You haven't told anyone have you?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely not, I mean, I just told my friend that an old boyfriend hit me." I laughed awkwardly. Jessica didn't react with anything but a light grin.

"Good." She remarked, leaning forward in the chair with her hands together. "There was another thing I wanted to tell you."

"Sure."

"Patient seven killed herself this morning after you left. She hit her head on the wall numerous times before dying due to traumatic bleeding in the brain."

My chest grew tight as I listened to her speak slowly, as if she was delivering the news to a four year old. The guilt began to form a pit at the bottom of my stomach, making me feel sick. I chewed my lip to prevent myself from really getting ill, and started to wonder if it was my fault that Lily killed herself.

"Do you remember what happened after the assault?" Her voice took on a more concerned tone.

"I…All I remember was waking up on the floor next to the cart."

Jessica picked up her clipboard again, no doubt writing what I just told her. When she finished, she removed the paper from the board and placed it in a folder labeled 'Patient Seven'.

I bit the inside of my cheek harshly. "How did you know?"

"The patients might be crazy but they like to talk." Jessica stood up from the chair, holding the folder tightly to her chest. "Just between you and me, we don't _always_ go through the videos. Actually, they prove faulty most of the time."

"So, are we done here?"

She shook her head. "Our evening gal had to leave early for an appointment. We were hoping you could stick around."

Faking a smile, I nodded yes.

Her heels clicked as I watched her leave the office and out the door. For a moment, I sat in the chair and did nothing but watch the camera to Lily's old room. A small red blur on the wall beside her bed proved that Jessica wasn't lying. Once again, I could feel the sickness stir inside of me, and I wondered what madness drove Lily to kill herself in such a way.

"Fuck." I groaned, and pulled open some drawers to see if I could find some scrubs. I remembered leaving my old sweater and decided that would be comfortable to do my rounds for the night. Keeping my eyes on the cameras, I tossed my blouse on the other chair and replaced it with the sweater.

The patients were winding down for the night. That is, if hurling insults to the camera and pacing around abnormally was considered winding down. I turned off the volume on patient four. The man wouldn't stop calling the nurses scrubby whores and insisted someone come down and rub his back. I looked forward to knocking him out with a taser later on.

After notating patient four's increasing hostility, I found myself thinking about the night with Lily and wondering why she hurt me in the first place. Maybe I reminded her of someone she didn't like, and she just couldn't help it. Did she regret it afterwards? Did Lily take me back outside to the hall next to my cart to keep working? I couldn't afford to think like this, so I started up the office computer and decided some online shopping would make me feel better. It didn't.

"Mira?"

I was hearing things. _Don't worry, they're getting to you._

When I glanced to the clock, I realized I had been browsing online for quite some time. Luckily, I still had less than an hour to administer the nightly dosage. Everyone seemed to be calmed down from what I saw in the cameras, but I had to double take at camera two.

Dr. Crane was twiddling his thumbs, sitting upright in his bed like he was waiting for something. I breathed deeply and switched from the computer, to the camera monitors. When I maximized the screen, I realized he was looking straight into the camera. His lips formed a soft whisper.

"Mira."

I felt my jaw drop in fear. "Oh hell no," I said loudly, shaking my head. "Nope."

Did I go down there to see what he wanted? What if I didn't and he killed himself just like Lily did? I smacked my head, knowing damn well this man was in an asylum for a reason. Why was I even considering going down there? I didn't consider going down to patient four to give him a back rub. _You know you'd rather it be Dr. Crane than patient four, Mira._

I rolled my eyes at my inner voice before whipping out the keys to let myself out of the office. Before heading down the hallway of crazies, I adjusted the pepper spray between my hip and jeans. I really hoped I wouldn't have to use the tube.

As I turned the key, I remembered the note about Crane and how I wasn't suppose to speak with him more than needed. When I pushed open the door, I pushed the thought out of my mind. Let's just tell them I forgot all about it.

Dr. Crane sat at the edge of the bed, quietly. Actually, he seemed like one of those sweet Alaskan malamute pups. Bright eyes staring at me, head tilted slightly with an overall cleanliness in the air like seaside cotton. He didn't smile until I shut the door behind me, prompting me to reach for my pepper spray until I convinced myself there was nothing to fear.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I questioned, staying cool

He twisted his lips and glanced at the floor. When he opened his mouth, the words flowed through evenly without emotion. "I was curious about your health, Nurse Thorne."

 _What the hell are you talking about?_

"I'm sorry, I'm not…"

He interrupted me. "It seems she bruised you quite well. Does it hurt?"

I looked from left to right, unable to hide my confusion. "Dr. Crane, that's not something I'm here to discuss with you. I'm your Nurse, not your friend." I reprimanded him quite well, satisfied with myself for a maximum of ten seconds. His eyebrow rose slowly and his thick lips curled at each end. He began to appear impossibly inviting as he stretched over the cot and rested his head on the pillow.

"If you were _really_ my nurse, you wouldn't be using such a tone. Doctors and nurses tend to have a mutual respect for one another."

I took a quick breath. "You really aren't a doctor anymore."

"Yet you called me Dr. Crane."

He caught me, and I decided to let him win. So I smiled to myself and nodded before changing the subject. "How did you know about what happened?" I asked innocently and folded my arms across my chest.

Crane straightened his head, staring at the ceiling like he was bored. "I try to learn about new people that come into my life, seeing as that number is extremely limited. Sometimes I just happen to find things out."

"I'm done here." I said to him like an impatient adult scolding a child. Clinging to the silver key, I turned around to let myself out before his voice convinced me to stay.

"Do you know how you ended up in the hallway, with all your pretty pieces still intact?"

My eyes widened in terror. I made a point to remove all emotion from my face before slowly turning around to face him. The straps that usually restrained patients from going too far were missing from Crane's wrist. I smiled at him, working extra hard to hide the sudden shock.

"Why don't you tell me?" I asked kindly, remembering that he was completely nuts despite the fact that he seemed quite able. _Where the fuck are his straps?_

"I happened to be at the right place during the right time," He began, slowly turning his eyes to me as he emphasized every word. "That patient had a history of being volatile."

Whatever, he was just playing a game for his own entertainment at this point. There was no way that he _happened_ to be out of his quarters and free of restraints after Lily hurt me. I clutched the pepper spray beside my hip and decided I would go ahead and just ask. If he got funny, I'd spray his sorry ass and come back with a needle for his arm. "Crane, I'm the only one here with a key and the means to move around this facility. May I ask how you were able to leave your cell?"

Crane sighed and rolled his eyes. "Some of the other nurses and I have a healthy understanding. Such an understanding comes with its perks, of course."

If Crane was telling the truth, then that would give the nurses all the more reason to advise me against speaking with him. However, it might not even go that deep and just be a precaution to his psychotic antics. I gritted my teeth and nodded slowly, realizing that Crane could have meant any kind of _perk._

"So, did you use a key to get out?"

He grinned. "Of course."

 _Nice. Maybe I'll just have to wait until you're knocked out before I come in here and look for it._

"I'm just going to stop this before it begins, Crane." I was hoping to stare him down, but it didn't work with his eyes latched to the ceiling. "I'm not giving you extra privileges because you decide to be nice to me."

I watched his chest move slightly, like he had stifled a laugh at my poor attempt to be tough. "Can't win them all," he said plainly.

I stepped out of his cell and locked the door behind me. As I walked down the hall, I took a few glances behind me to ensure my safety. Crane was playing me, I knew it. He was absolutely bonkers. The only difference between him and some of the other patients was that he had a handle on it. Crane knew how to control his madness, and right now he was also controlling me. There was no way I would allow it.

The monitors showed less activity as the minutes went on. Most of the patients even started heading to bed, closing their eyes before I readied their nightly dosages. Nights like this went by easily, as they were too lazy to acknowledge my presence. Still, I kept the pepper spray with me at all times.

"Natural, natural, natural." I mumbled as I filled each of the syringes with the proper medications. I picked up Dr. Crane's syringe. "Definitely, not natural."

After packing the cart with drugs, I added a few Reese's peanut butter cups to the bottom. Some of the younger patients liked the candy, so I would put them under their pillows like I was the mental health fairy. I don't know if they knew it was me, but that's okay. I just wanted to feel like a generous person despite the circumstances.

Once I was finished, I unlocked the door and pushed the cart through. That was when I saw the open door.

"What the hell?" I said aloud, feeling the panic rise in my chest. My hands shook as I tried not to drop the pepper spray.

The first door on the left; even numbered. Patient number two was Crane. He was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Jessica? Oh I'm so sorry; I just didn't know who to call."

I locked myself inside the tight quarters of the office, glancing frantically from the monitor to the windows. "What's going on?"

"Crane escaped. I-I don't know how."

Silence

"I'm locked inside the office room, what do I do?"

Jessica remained silent for a few moments before I heard her humming, as if she was deciding what she should say. "I wouldn't worry about Crane, Mira. He wouldn't hurt you unless you gave him a reason to."

My mind was screaming, but it was my turn to be silent. I stared at the monitor, eyeing each room carefully to find him. "Where would he go?"

"Mira, it's going to be fine. I promise." I listened to her hang up the phone. My jaw fell open, and I found myself standing in the same position with the phone still against my ear. I was frozen in time. Dr. Crane must have been telling the truth. Why else would Jessica shrug the whole situation off? Oh god, they even told me _not_ to talk to Dr. Crane! Was that so I wouldn't found out about any of this mess?

I slowly unlocked the door and walked back to the cart, gritting my teeth the whole time. My body began to shrink, and I felt myself trying to pull my shoulders together. It was like seeing a spider crawling on the wall, only to turn around and find that it disappeared.

For the rest of the night, everything was normal and quiet. I never did shake that feeling of the missing spider. At least, not until the morning girl, Allison, came in. Her tired eyes seemed to darken when I told her about Crane, but then she just shrugged it off like Jessica did earlier. She reminded me of the popular girl at school who had that dreadful case of resting bitch face.

"I'm sure he'll come back." She threw her copper curls over her shoulder with a sigh.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Why is everyone okay with this? Crane hurt a lot of people, but apparently it's not the first time he's escaped? What happens when he hurts someone? If they find out, Arkham could get sued!"

She gave me an annoyed look before backhanding me right into the file cabinet. I felt her bony knuckles force my tooth right into my upper lip, immediately drawing blood. When I looked up at her from the ground, I saw her sitting at the desk filling out paperwork like nothing had happened.

I rose, convincing myself she wasn't worth hurting. How I would love to grab her by the scalp and slam her face against the wall to break her nose. No, I was better than that. "Have a good morning, Allison." I whispered before carefully shutting the door.

I felt the blood from my lip drip down my chin, making a running trail down my neck. I didn't even bother to wipe it away as I walked through the lobby and out the door. Strangely enough, I didn't receive any looks from the people around me. They just smiled.

"Bed. I just want to go to bed." I said to myself as I drove through the snow. I turned into the apartment parking lot and shut off the car, slamming the door before running up the wooden stairs. It was when I pulled out my key that I noticed it was unlocked. I mentally slapped myself, angry that I forgot to lock it before I left.

I flipped the living room light on and tossed my keys on the couch, as well as my freshly stained shirt. The more I lingered in the living room, the more something felt off to me. When I glanced around, nothing was more out of place than usual. The moderate size kitchen was in need of a light cleaning, with a small amount of dirty dishes in the sink. My living room was decent besides the stack of mostly clean clothes on the couch. They usually sat there until I decided it was time to just go ahead and wash them again.

I took my pants off and added them to the pile before separating them from what I considered clean. Maybe I could wind down a bit and do some laundry before bed. Somehow the smell of cotton was always enjoyable to me. During mid-fold, I began to wonder about the smell. Actually, it wasn't the smell of my apartment, but the fact that I couldn't smell _anything_. When I looked at the book shelf beside the couch, I realized that my wax melt had been unplugged. Maybe I did lock my door like I thought.

A presence sauntered from the hallway and leaned against the wall, peering at me with familiar bright eyes. At first, I didn't recognize him out of the dull scrubs. Instead, he wore a tattered coal colored jacket with fancy pinstripe pants and black dress shoes. Crane's image was the teacher that high school girls secretly lusted for, dressed by Tim Burton and diagnosed with some juicy psychotic disorder.

"Dr. Crane." I said kindly, accepting the fact that I was going to die wearing little mermaid underwear.

He raised an eyebrow before lightly touching his lips, grazing his fingertips over them slowly. "You should clean up."

When I touched my face, I felt the semi dry blood on my fingers. I rummaged for something to cover my body before Crane threw a towel on the couch. Quickly, I grabbed it and headed straight for the sink, throwing water all over my face and neck. I dried my face, scrubbing away the last bit of blood. Crane was a mere few feet away from me when I turned around.

"What do you need?" I asked him, holding the towel to my chest. _Excuse yourself and call the police!_

Dr. Crane licked his lips before drawing a breath. "Actually I was wondering if you didn't mine me using you for the day."

I didn't hesitate. "What the fuck do you mean use me?" I backed away, holding the towel with one hand while I searched in a drawer with the other.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, stepping closer. Crane's face was blank besides the annoyance in his eyes; the same annoyance in Allison's face before she plowed me into the file cabinet. I flinched at him, scared he would do the same.

"I'm not going to beat you, Mira." Crane laughed dryly. "But I would appreciate it if you used a professional tone with me."

He didn't seem angry, but he was scary. The smooth control of his words and his way of showing emotion was admirable as well as terrifying. When I looked back up, I swear I could have seen a faint smile. "Dr. Crane, I'm very tired." I said timidly. "I really need to sleep."

Crane tilted his head, as if he was reading me. Like a nervous fool, I dropped the towel on the floor and struggled to cover myself in the pink bra. I felt like I was just shrinking down to the size of a four year old. Suddenly I felt his hands on both sides of my hips, attempting to raise me onto the kitchen counter. I wriggled in his grasp and protested weakly until the painful squeezing became unbearable. Once on the counter I began to panic even more; my protests for freedom turned into begs.

He pulled me closer to the ledge, hands gripping my knees tightly. I attempted to kick him before he reached for my hair and pulled, sending yelps of pain into the air. Once he had me at my weakest, he filled the space between my thighs with his body. One hand gripped my hair while the other clutched my neck. "I just want to know what you're afraid of." He leaned in and whispered. The scent of his neck was pure intoxication, and I found my toes curl with immediate shame.

"Please don't do this to me." I cried softly, struggling to speak. "Please."

He released my neck with a disgusted laugh and weakened the grip on my hair. "Do what? I'm not going to _rape_ you." Dr. Crane let me go, allowing my head to fall back onto the cabinet. I winced in pain, but still thankful he wasn't hurting me anymore.

"Thank you." I mumbled more to myself than him, but he was still close to me.

He gently lifted my chin to look straight at him. The gesture was sweet, but somehow I felt it was his way of apologizing. "Mira, we can have a wonderful doctor and patient relationship if you cooperate."

"Doctor and patient?" I whispered quietly.

Crane nodded slowly before leaning in and murmuring, "Go to sleep. When you wake up, I'm going to take care of you."

I closed my eyes, hoping this was nothing but a nightmare. Yes, this was just a stupid nightmare. I've been working too many nights at Arkham, and it's all getting to me. _Mira, wake up. Wake up._

Then, I woke up.

My comforter was warm, like it had been freshly washed and dried. I rubbed my legs together, enjoying the feeling of clean linen and the smell of cotton in the air. Sunlight peaked through my curtains, and I quickly realized it was far too early for me to be awake. I closed my eyes once more.

"Good morning."

I screamed, sitting up way too fast. My head was spinning with the sight of Crane standing at the foot of my bed, sipping on a cup of coffee. He set it down on my dresser before sauntering over to take a seat just a few feet to my left on the edge of my bed. "You're real." I said, still sleepy and reeling from what I thought was a nightmare.

Crane laughed softly and I watched his eyes roll behind his glasses. "Yes."

"I'm sorry; I thought I had a dream." I admitted to him before rubbing my eyes. Mouthing off didn't seem to get me anywhere, so I decided to play it safe and just be nice. God knows I didn't want to be caught up in anything physical.

"Sure." He answered simply, almost boringly. "May I ask what sort of things you dream about?"

The question caught me off guard. I thought it over for a few moments as Crane patiently waited. Finally I decided on something safe but true. It was something common, but still interesting enough to satisfy him. "I see wolves sometimes. Actually, it's always just one wolf at a time. They look different in every dream."

When I glanced over I realized he was writing on a notepad. "You're writing all this down?"

He ignored me, and I didn't like it.

So I hesitated for a moment, wishing he wouldn't be so frigid. "Oh, well. The last dream I remember having was really weird. I'm pretty sure I was living in some kind of hut in a rainforest before jumping off a cliff."

Crane didn't say a word or react at all. Instead he finished writing before pulling something out from beneath my bed. I leaned over, thinking he was taking something of mine. Instead, it was just his suitcase that he probably placed there while I was asleep. He gently placed it on the bed before flipping it open.

I watched him intently as he moved, wondering if he had used my shower or left to put himself together. His hair looked more maintained than it had before, and he neglected to put on that tattered jacket of his. My nose couldn't help but breath in the smell of sweet sandalwood and rose. _Oh, he used my shower._

"My mom and dad live in South Dakota with my little sisters. My life was pretty normal; pretty boring really. I got into some trouble when I was around sixteen, so they sent me away. It still hurts sometimes, knowing that they didn't care to listen to me."

Dr. Crane closed the case shut and fixated his eyes onto mine. It was like he was just looking through me. His jaw suddenly clenched and I couldn't help but melt a little. Why did I open my mouth to this lunatic?

"What happened when you were sixteen?" He tilted his head before licking his lips, speaking in that smooth and controlled tone. Somehow Crane seemed… _hungry._

I hesitated, running my fingers through my hair nervously before deciding to just tell him. "I slept with one of my dad's friends."

Now, it wasn't really as bad as it sounds. Dad was a computer geek and worked with a lot of other computer geeks, one in particular was much more attractive and intriguing than the rest. Yes, William was still pushing thirty and had a son. Did I know this at the time? No, I didn't. To be honest, I probably still would have done it if I did, selfish teen that I was. I never could have said no to those big brown eyes and rigid tan shoulders.

"Naughty." He raised an eyebrow but didn't seem too phased.

"I know, I'm a mess." I replied sarcastically. Crane wasn't amused.

"So, what's the whole story?" He asked.

I leaned my head back and stared up at the ceiling for a minute to recollect my story, and then I drew a quick breath before looking back to Crane. His eyes kept staring, never blinking.

"He came around looking for dad while no one was home and we fucked in the laundry room. Sounds like a shitty porn, right? I'd been eyeballing him for a few weeks to be honest. No one…pressed any charges. They just shut it all away and got rid of me."

No reaction from Crane. He was just as he was before.

"Well?" I laughed, feeling awkward.

Crane shrugged. "Maybe that's why you dreamt you were in paradise before you threw yourself off the cliff. You were living somewhere unsatisfactory so you acted out and indirectly cast yourself away."

I opened my mouth, in slight awe that this actually made sense, In addition to the fact that I was having a completely civil conversation with one of Arkhams patients. However, I assume I had now become the patient in this case.

"Mira, do you have nightmares all the time?"

I thought for a moment. "Sure, I get some pretty vivid ones. If they aren't nightmares then they're just strange."

Crane grinned, and I felt like I was staring at some different kind of blue devil. He uncrossed his legs and glanced to the nightstand where a syringe was placed. My eyes widened and my chest felt tight. How did I not notice it from before? What was in the syringe?

"If you cooperate, you won't have to meet my bad side." He warned. There was a bit of an edge to his voice, almost like I was already starting to meet his bad side.

"I-I…wait. I have to work tonight."

He gently took my arm, and I watched his hands feel for a good vein. Crane had pretty hands, and somehow I calmed myself in watching him. But, that was the end of his gentleness.

"You're working right now."

Dr. Crane wasn't kind with the needle.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _Red._

 _I could taste red velvet in my mouth; Rich and devilishly dark. I swallowed over and over again, never tasting anything so perfect in my life. The taste faded after just a moment. The shades of red became endless, and I felt myself entangled in silk sheets the color of blood. Strange that I couldn't see very well, but god I was feeling everything. Everything I felt was…deliciously red._

 _I realized my body was stripped of all clothes, but the sheets kept me warm like a soft fire licking my body. I shamelessly rubbed my legs together and felt a heat rise in my chest. The scent of rose filled the air. My head fell back, and I rolled my shoulders against the warm bedding. I parted my lips and mixed the sounds of my uncontrollable moans with the roses, and the striking new scent of cotton._

 _Cotton?_

 _Why am I seeing blue?_

My eyes flew wide open, darting all around my bedroom. I needed to see, and I needed to feel what was real. I squeezed my blankets with my hands quite dramatically before noticing I was completely nude, and that I had thrown my clothes on the floor. What was worse, Crane was reading a book next to me. I felt intoxicated, but light as a feather and strangely confident.

"That was fun." He sighed. Little lights were scattered across the room, and I realized he had lit candles and closed the curtains while I slept. Crane put his book away and I held the blanket up to my chest, desperately trying to feel that warmth again.

"What just happened to me?" I rested my hand on Crane's shoulder, coming off a little friendlier than I wanted to. Crane looked at me with surprised eyes, but didn't pull himself away. His jaw seemed to tighten a little, and I wondered if he was angry with me. I couldn't help myself.

"Please tell me." I begged, but that came out wrong too, almost like a moan. I wasn't myself. Everything was wrong…and still red.

Crane removed his glasses. "We'll have to do something about the…Well this is lasting longer than I wanted it to."

The feeling was so bizarre. My limbs were loose, and I found myself throwing my head back and smiling just to feel my hair swing against my back. The blanket fell, exposing my chest as I stretched my arms into the air. I rested with a smile, and leaned on Crane.

"Ummm…" I trailed off, feeling him stiffen beside me. "Will you kiss me?"

His body eased up against me and I felt his arm snake around my hip, getting me even higher that I already was. I giggled, looking up at him like a fool. Crane hesitated slightly before leaning into me.

"Ow!" I screamed. His lips were only an inch away before I felt the sharp pressure in my shoulder. Crane didn't take his eyes off me, not even when he pulled out the needle from my body.

"Relax." He commanded softly before pulling away from me.

"Why do you keep poking me?" I whined.

"I'll bend you over and poke you with something harder if you don't finish coming down from this fucking drug already."

My eyes widened, and I pulled the blanket close to my body. When I looked at Crane, I noticed he was just as shocked as I was. He didn't say anything after that, but he started to look around a little hopelessly before quietly leaving for the bathroom. My mouth hung open, still unsure of what just happened or who that even was.

I felt terrible, like a sensitive child who had just been yelled at for the first time. A noise came from the bathroom and I started to worry, so I wrapped the blanket around myself like a towel and shuffled to the bathroom door. Thankfully I felt the effects of the drug wear away from that shot, and I started to feel a little more like myself.

"…begging for it, you should have just given it to her!"

"That's not what she's for."

I covered my face in horror. How many people were in that room? _Is there someone else in my house?_

"Crane?" I asked innocently before knocking lightly on the door. I waited for at least one agonizing minute.

There was no answer.

I knocked again, but still there was no answer. Slowly, I propped open the door and peaked through cautiously.

"Hello?"

When I opened the door all the way, I felt a cold breeze dance around my shoulders. Snow had fallen from the open window down to my bathtub. Dr. Crane had escaped.

"Oh fuck!"

I looked back and forth nervously before slapping myself in the face and screaming. How stupid could I be? No, I just should have fought, why didn't I fight him? Jesus, I never should have encouraged or talked to that man. How could I have been so stupid?

"Okay, it's going to be okay." I said nervously to myself, searching for my phone. I found it on my dresser and flipped through the contacts before seeing Jo's number and hitting call.

"Please answer, please." I gritted between my teeth and started pacing back and forth. Dropping the blanket, I ran to my door and frantically knocked it while still holding the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Jo!" I screamed before running back to the bathroom to lock the window. "Jo, I really need you right now."

"Are you alright? You sound a little drunk."

"Can you come over? What are you doing?"

There was a pause, but I waited patiently as I secured the lock on my bedroom window.

"I'm out and about anyways; I'll come out as soon as I can."

I breathed in deep. "Oh thank you so much," I said before hanging up the phone and tossing it on my bed. The candles were still lit, so I went around the room and blew them away one by one. While waiting for Jo, I flipped through my closet like a maniac in search for clothes. In truth, I had a lot to wear, but I had to keep my mind busy before exploding.

"Anything but fucking red," I mumbled before tossing away a crimson colored sweater and settling for grey. I clapped my hands together like a kid; a strange nervous tick. After pacing around for what seemed like forever, I ran to my kitchen and started to make coffee. Actually, I had to catch myself from making sugar water because I accidentally poured a whole cup of the stuff into the coffee filter.

"Calm down, calm down," I whispered while fixing my stupid mistake. _Mira, I don't think you need any coffee right now._

I ran to my couch and turned on the TV, hoping that would make me feel better. It didn't, so I just sat there tapping my feet while watching some family sitcom. It definitely wasn't funny, and I found myself turning cynical.

Thirty minutes. Thirty agonizing minutes I felt tick away as I glanced from the TV to the clock.

"Mira?" I heard her voice followed by a knock. "Jesus did you deadbolt this shit?" I jumped from the couch and ran over to unlock the door while listening to Jo struggle.

"I'm sorry!" I said and let her in.

"Mira, you look like shit run over twice." She commented casually before tossing her handbag onto the couch. Her yellow hair was smoothed out nicely past her shoulders, and she smelled of vanilla and lavender. I hoped I didn't interrupt anything important on account of her lovely attire and pristine makeup.

"I did something stupid; very stupid." I began, taking a seat on the floor while I watched her relax on the chair. "It's about Arkham."

Jo sighed and dropped her head while closing her eyes. "I could have guessed."

"Jonathan Crane escaped from the asylum and got into my house."

Her eyes opened back up and her jaw dropped in horror. "What, when? Oh my god, was he just here?" She got up from the chair and started looking around in the kitchen for signs of him.

"I mean, it was a bit ago. Yeah?" I responded, trying to keep up with her as she started opening closets and peeking into the other rooms. She flung open the bathroom door with so much force that I thought it would break. Suddenly, she turned around and grabbed my shoulders.

"What did he do to you?"

I shivered. "He asked me some questions and gave me a shot of some drugs. Uh, it wasn't anything too bad. Actually, they felt really good."

Jo frowned, still squeezing my shoulders. She didn't seem too angry, more like an older sister who couldn't figure out if she should be pissed or caring. "Other than that?"

I shook my head. She mumbled something I couldn't hear as she started rubbing her temples. God, I was giving her a head ache. I shouldn't feel so bad about it after all the times I had to talk her out of past situations. However, I think one criminal probably equates to about ten bad break ups. Too bad she just had the three or four.

"You work tonight, don't you?"

I nodded my head.

"Let's sit down." Jo patted my back lightly before we made ourselves comfortable on the bed, turning on some television and settling down like two girls at a sleep over. Josephine Preston was my best friend in nursing school, and while our schedules aren't the best, it was still nice to see her whenever we got the chance. We were opposites, but that made the friendship even more fun.

"I've heard some things about Jonathan Crane; like some up to date rumors."

"Up to date?"

"Oh yeah." She went on, fumbling through a bag of chips. "After they put him back in Arkham, he started experiencing some _extravagant_ symptoms."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, he's got split personality bad. We knew that already, but from what that nurse told me…it's like he's thirty percent Crane and seventy percent scarecrow." I didn't like the way she was talking about him. I wasn't sure if it was how casual she was about a man who was suffering or if I was just being weird.

"He wasn't experiencing any symptoms of that degree under my watch, at least not at night. But…I guess that's not what worries me the most."

"What's that?" Jo wrapped up the chips and focused her attention on me.

"When I told my supervisor that he escaped, she just blew it off."

She sighed. "Well it's Arkham, so I'm not surprised; renovate this and natural drug that. Like that's going to fool anyone."

"I love how no one here knows what a HIPAA law is." I rolled my eyes. It was illegal for medical staff to share information about patients with anyone besides themselves. However, Arkham Asylum was a place and not a patient. Despite that, I did sign a confidentiality agreement. I guess I just broke that, but I'm going to assume I wasn't the only one.

"Just be cool tonight, Mira. Besides, you make bank working with mental patients, so make enough money to live on for awhile before putting your two weeks."

Suddenly I felt overwhelmed. "I just want to call in sick."

Jo grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. "No, you can't. Listen; don't tell them about your involvement with Crane. Go to work like normal. Ask no questions and bullshit your way through anything they wanna know. It's getting kinda late and you need to get dressed."

She threw off the blanket and hopped off the bed. I was tired, and too lazy to walk her to the door. "I'll call you later." I said. She stopped, halfway out the bedroom door.

"Mira? If Crane comes back..." Jo sighed and tapped the edge of the door in thought. "Just be smart."

"Sure." I said flatly. Jo whispered good bye and shut the door softly.

I glanced at the clock, forever hating those red numbers. Jo was right, it was getting late and it was almost time to go back to the asylum.

"Fuck." I whispered and closed my eyes for a short second. Somehow, everything was still red.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Alright let's get this over with." I mumbled and turned the keys to my car. I locked it up and headed for the dark building, trudging through the snow and hoping like hell I would just get stuck and freeze to death. Wait, no. Actually freezing to death would be worse than my silly anxieties.

The lights flickered in the lobby, catching my attention and unnerving me even more. Everything else was untouched and vacant per usually, but the lights bothered me to no end. Despite feeling freaked, I made my way to the elevator and descended into the basement to relieve whatever nurse they had working afternoons. As of late, they weren't consistent.

"Hey." Craig said with a smile. I sighed in relief, happy to see him instead of Allison or Jessica. Craig was easy to get along with, and I enjoyed relieving him on the few times he worked. We talked quite a bit between shifts, and I found him to be quite humorous. He was fair looking and of average height, too sweet for his own good to tell the truth. I wondered how he ended up in Gotham.

"Hey, how are you?" I asked, hanging up my coat on the rack.

"Well I'm doing great actually, especially now that you're here." I heard him click a few times on the computer mouse before swiveling around in the chair. "I've got plans tonight."

"Very nice, what do you have going on?"

He stood up and took off his reading glasses. "Not a lot, just meeting up with some old friends at a bar."

"I'm jealous." I told him. Craig smiled before flipping out his phone to check some texts. I wished he wasn't in a hurry, but I wasn't going to keep him any longer than needed. "So, good day?"

He glanced back up at me before turning back to his phone. "Oh, yeah. Pretty quiet I guess. No outbursts or anything weird." Craig started tapping on his phone furiously, not paying any attention to anything other than that screen. I raised my eyebrow at him. This wasn't like Craig.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later." I grabbed his coat off the rack and held it out, wondering if he would even notice. He didn't, and started reaching in the air like I thought he would.

"Oh, thanks Mira." He smiled, taking the coat from my hands and headed out the door. I watched him walk out and into the elevator where he fumbled with his phone. Maybe he just had a really secretive hot date? Or maybe I just needed to calm down and mind my own business.

"That was weird." I sighed, and checked the cameras casually. My sights zeroed in on camera two, and I felt myself freeze instantly at the sight. Eventually, I just pushed my face onto the monitor like an idiot as if it would make me see any better.

"Who was the fucktruck that let you back in?" I growled, looking at the monitor with distaste in my mouth. Crane was spread out on his back, resting on the cot. Through the blurriness of the monitor, I could still sense that he seemed quite proud of himself. Surely he didn't just waltz back in without an explanation of why he was gone and how he escaped? _No, there's something else isn't there?_

Instead of angering myself with thoughts of Crane, I hopped onto the chair and started online shopping to cool down; something which typically consisted of me packing a virtual cart full of three hundred dollars worth of items before closing out of the websites altogether. In the end, I did splurge on some expensive lotion and skincare.

"Three, two, one. One, two, three." Patient twelve counted incessantly.

"September fourth, September fourth, we're all going to die!" Patient eight screamed repeatedly.

I turned off the volume. It was safe to say that everyone was quite vocal, and I soon realized I would have to start my rounds soon before _someone_ decided September fourth couldn't come fast enough. _Hmm I wonder if patient eight is getting the natural drugs or the real shit? I thought Craig said everything was quiet?_

I notated the patient's behavior in their files and proceeded to fill my cart up. After pre-drawing the drugs, I supplied the cart with pepper spray and candy. Suddenly, I realized that I would never find another job where I would keep sweets and drugs in the same place.

Nathan was half asleep in his cell, looking kind of sour. He lifted his arm lazily for me to take as he rested on his side. His skin looked pretty grey in the light, prompting me to question him about his appearance.

"Hey, are you feeling okay?"

"Just tired." He responded. "You got candy?"

I gripped his arm and felt for the vein before giving him the injection. "Of course, just let me finish." After cleaning the blood, I felt his forehead to check for a fever. He wasn't warm, but he seemed a little clammy. His temperature was ninety nine point one, so it wasn't bad, but I figured I should probably keep an eye on him.

"Here." I handed him a Reese's and saw him smirk just a bit before closing his eyes. I sat for a minute and watched him drift off, wishing I could just stay and entertain myself instead of going to see my next patient.

 _Oh joy, here we go._

I locked Nathan's room and proceeded with my cart into the hallway. The lights still flickered annoyingly, and I told myself I would just pay to fix it myself. Arkham probably wouldn't let me do that; maybe they kept those dingy lights because they missed the shit show that this place used to be. God, I was over thinking everything; just so I could avoid _him_.

The tension swelled between the door and I. Finally, I just unlocked it and went inside with the cart in front of me. Crane looked just like the picture on the monitor; laying back casually while staring at the ceiling with those wide eyes. He ignored me as I held the large needle proudly, not caring which part I would have to stick him.

"Hi, Crane." I said with a fake smile.

His lips gave a slight twitch. "Come back for more?"

"Actually, I'm quite interested to know why you're here." I slyly felt for the tiny pepper spray in my jean pocket before sitting on the cot next to Crane. He didn't protest as I grabbed his arm and pushed the meds inside.

"That's not important." He smiled. "Did you like the medicine I gave you?" His voice was so crisp and smooth. Crane let his arm hang lazily over the cot while I put the needle away and grabbed the blood pressure machine.

"I don't remember." I lied to him, watching the band squeeze his arm tightly.

"Would you like me to remind you?"

I ignored him and waited for the machine to finish. When it was loosened, I ripped the Velcro off and set it back on the cart before preparing to leave.

"I can show you blue." I heard him say softly as I approached the door.

Crane was now sitting up, hands folded in his lap with a presumably sweet look on his face. I wasn't buying it. "Dr. Crane, I'm thankful for what you did for me that night when I was attacked. From the way I see it, letting you test on me was my way of paying you back. However, I'm not interested, and I would appreciate it if you would stay out of my house."

The look on his face remained exactly the same. Lips were neither in a frown or smile, but they looked dangerously charming. His eyes remained intriguing, unreal shades of blue. I needed to stop looking at him, because the more I did, the more I wanted to try blue. "Besides, what's the point of these drugs anyway? What are they supposed to treat?"

He sighed deeply. "I'm sad to say, that I can no longer inform you of any information pertaining to the trial. You've made it clear that you no longer wish to participate." Crane cocked his head slightly, watching me intently.

"Sure. Not like I needed to know anyways." I fibbed with a grin. _Okay, now leave! Just walk out that door and forget all about it!_

"What a disappointment. You seemed to react quite well." He said with a touch of condescension in his voice. "Besides, I find that you have quite an overindulgent personality. It works amazingly for this type of medicine."

As he spoke, my fingers made their way to the cart and found the empty syringe. I squeezed it, full of fierce temptation. He was right, I was over indulgent. Everything I wanted, I sought after and held close to me. Just like William; he was my first taste of forbidden desire. But, the worst part was that I couldn't simply pay for the things I wanted. Sure, I could spend money and get a new car or go eat fancy food. God, where was the fun in that?

"You're bleeding."

 _What are you talking about?_

"I'm sorry?"

"You cut yourself." He told me. When I glanced at the cart, I saw blood dripping from my fingertips and onto the tray. I was shaking. Somehow I had managed to prick my fingers on the tips of the needles.

"I'll be fine." I assured him and wiped the blood on my scrubs. "Now, I have some other patients that need my attention."

I unlocked the door and pushed the cart through, continuously wiping blood from my fingertips to my clothes. Crane called out to me just before he was out of sight. "As your doctor, I feel that it's necessary for me to check on that wound in the morning."

For just a moment, I paused, but only for a slight moment. I softly closed the door and wished him a good night before leaving. As I finished locking him back up, something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. That was when I heard the soft _ding._ Someone was about to get off the elevator.

She looked deadly fake, with a smile upon her face that presumed she was trying desperately to keep it together. Her hair was much paler than usual. I noted the strange amount of frizz as her ponytail swung back and forth; taking quick steps my way. I barely recognized her, but those glasses and pastel colored scrubs gave it away.

"Jessica?" I said tiredly as she stopped in front of my cart. "Is everything okay?"

Her eyes averted to Dr. Crane's door before dramatically flinging back to my fingers. Jessica took a deep sigh and modified her smile, looking a little less insane. "How is he?"

"Uh..he's…I mean he's okay." I fumbled with my words.

Jessica nodded. "I noticed the blood on your fingertips. Is that yours?" Her voice was cold, cutting into the silent air. I felt like I was tied up in an interrogation room.

"I accidentally cut my finger on a needle. I'll be fine."

"Great. I just stopped by to make sure you were well. Luckily, Dr. Crane found his way back here. I know how distraught you were to see that he escaped."

"I was terrified." I admitted to her. "He's a dangerous man."

She frowned and twisted her lips as if deciding what to say. "Dangerous? Sure. He is brilliant, though. Sometimes you can't have one without the other, right?" I hung on her words, watching her bright pink lipstick form every syllable. I would have to remind myself to stay from that shade.

"Is that why you let him in and out of the asylum to do as he wants?"

Her lips parted in what appeared to be shock. It was a bold statement; one that I wasn't even completely sure about. Considering the look on her face, she just gave me the answer. I smiled to myself on the inside, but kept my mouth shut on the out.

Jessica leaned in uncomfortably close. "You're in Gotham City, Mira." She whispered to me. "There are no rules here, only bad people and their friends."

As scary as her words were, and how true I knew they could be, Jessica couldn't scare me as much as I had been scared before. "I'll remember that. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Jessica straightened back into her perky self and grinned happily. "No, that will be all for tonight!" She turned around, and I bit my lip to refrain from that quip I was desperate to say. I watched her trot down the hall and back onto the elevator, ponytail swinging back and forth. When she punched the numbers, she waved at me like the fucking freak she was.

"Jester." I whispered with a knowing grin.


	6. Chapter 6

I slept well the morning after work; In fact, I found that I slept too well. There were no nightmares, but also no memorable dreams. I slept in simplicity and sweetly, waking up to no alarm and no strangers in my house. Two days of no work were ahead of me, and I was grateful for the break.

When I checked my phone, I saw no texts and no missed calls. I couldn't decide if I felt shitty because I wasn't popular, or if I was lucky that I didn't have to actually deal with anyone. I embraced my loneliness for the time being and turned on the news.

Gunshots, robberies, and assaults peppered the television. With a sigh, I turned it back off and headed to my mirror to see how haggard I looked. No, not to terrible I admitted to myself. I brushed out the rats in my hair and headed for the kitchen; contemplating a new change in style. Maybe I could trim it a few inches and add layers. I could go lighter too; maybe transition to a pretty brown. Hmm, for some reason brown just sounded wrong. Well, I suppose it was better than red.

Suddenly I found my thoughts drifting back to Crane and the asylum. The more I thought about it, the sicker I felt in my stomach. I grabbed a cup and filled it with some water before quickly gulping it down. Unfortunately, I didn't feel any better. I collapsed onto the couch and closed my eyes with a whiny groan.

 _Put on some clean clothes and pull yourself together._

My phone started to ring, inciting new found energy in me as I bolted from the couch to the bedroom. I dived onto the bed like an idiot and fumbled with the phone between the sheets. The number across the screen wasn't in my contacts.

I took a deep breath as I paced around the bedroom. "Hello?" I answered.

"Would you like to die, Mira?" A feminine voice hissed, full of hate.

My heart fell into my stomach. "W-What?"

I heard a click before I dropped the phone onto the carpet. My body was paralyzed, and I stared blankly at the mahogany headboard before my vision blurred. Tears streamed down my face, running leftover eyeliner and mascara all over my face. I was absolutely terrified. When I finally felt I could move, I wrapped my arms around my shoulders to keep myself together.

There was a rattle, and I slowly realized it was the door handle to my front door. Someone was picking the lock. I desperately looked around my bedroom for some kind of weapon to take and hide. _They're going to kill me! The person on the phone is going to kill me!_

"Fuck." I seethed before running to the bathroom. I locked the door and jumped into the tub, closing the curtain and praying no one would be smart enough to find me.

Footsteps echoed in my ear. They were slow and easy, almost thoughtful in a sense. I clenched my teeth tight and grabbed one of my shaving razors. In the thick silence, I heard another door handle creak. The footsteps inched closer, and I realized the intruder was inside my bedroom.

I got on my feet and steadied my body with the razor in hand. Hopefully I could scare them, and try going for their throat if they looked behind the curtain. All of a sudden, the next handle creaked and my blood pounded through my body like a rocket. My lips quivered, covered in tears. I couldn't breathe.

When I saw the shadow, the curtain disappeared. I dropped the razor in complete fear and cowered at the bottom of the tub. My eyes were closed shut, but my mouth was open in terror as I screamed like it was the last thing I could do.

Hands placed themselves on each side of my cheeks, wiping away my tears harshly before grabbing my hands. My screams stopped and I heard a voice speak casually. "You're being over-dramatic."

Dr. Crane pulled me onto my feet and led me out of the tub, but we didn't make it out of the bathroom before I gave him an earful. "You bastard, who was the bitch that called me right before you happened to get in here?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused, but neither was I. "Someone called you? What did they say?"

"They asked me if I wanted to die." I seethed at him, feeling more tears spill down my face. Crane rolled his eyes and grabbed some toilet paper, wiping my face once more. He threw the paper away and painfully closed his fingers around my wrist. Crane pulled me through the door, and pushed me onto my bed.

The doctor seemed off his game. Usually cold and exacting, he was heated and messy in every move he made. "I don't know why you were so terrified, Mira. I told you I was coming" His glasses rested on the tip of his nose, seemingly ready to fall off by the way he flipped through his folder.

"I thought someone was trying to kill me." I stated flatly.

"No one's going to kill you." He said with the pen between his lips. Crane ran a hand through his shaggy hair and set the folder next to his suitcase at the edge of the bed. "I'm not, at least."

I suppose it made me feel a little less scared to know that I wouldn't be dying today. Well, I hoped not. "Will you tell me what the medicine is for?" I asked him innocently, hoping he might give me an answer.

The doctor cleared his throat. "No, I won't tell you that Mira."

"Okay." I sighed, and patiently watched him prepare a syringe. Maybe he was going to kill me, or maybe he was going to make me feel alive. I wondered if it even mattered. If Crane wasn't going to kill me, then someone else was.

"We often associate colors with emotions and memories. For example, blue might mean cold and red might mean hot. However, all these things differ with each person; the previous examples are just common associations."He attempted to pull himself together as he spoke; flattening his wrinkled shirt and pushing his glasses back.

"I thought you weren't going to tell me?"

"I told you what it does, not what it's for." Crane scolded me, eyeballing the medicine in the syringe like he was proud of his creation. "Besides, these are just the simplified drugs. Colors are just a basic association. I still have more work to do."

I was afraid; second guessing myself as I was still coming down from the fear of being killed. With my back pressed against the headboard, I keenly watched him. His eyes, pure and disturbed, seemed desperate. What was he desperate for? What more did the doctor have to do?

"I'm scared." I peeped.

"Don't be." Crane moved closer, running his fingers down my arm gingerly as he searched for a good vein. My lips tugged at the ends, forming a pathetic frown followed by more tears. He dropped my arm in frustration and grabbed my face with one hand. Then he squeezed, and I felt my eyes widen in terror as he forced me to look him in the eyes. "Look at me." Crane gritted his teeth together and his jaw tensed up.

I felt the pressure of the needle and drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. My eyes closed, but they opened back up as Crane began to move around the room. He disposed of the needle, and headed for the kitchen. A short screech rang in my ears. I was startled until I realized it was just him grabbing a chair from the kitchen. He sat to my right, close to the edge of the bed, but not too close.

"Am I going to fall asleep?" I inquired.

Crane shrugged. "Hopefully not."

"You said that these were the simplified drugs. What does that mean exactly?"

"It means that you're not going to die, Mira."

I zipped my mouth shut, feeling like a fool for bothering him with questions. Crane relaxed in the chair and watched me close. I tensed up, afraid to even draw a breath in his presence. Every nervous sigh and unsteady breathe was under the intricate scope of Dr. Crane. I felt like a lab rat.

Moments passed by, and soon my breath became steady and relaxed. I slowly removed my blanket and walked from the bedroom to the bathroom. My body felt light, almost like I was made of air. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw a tinge of pink on my cheeks and a pretty ruby in my lips. The dark bags in my eyes had disappeared, and my hair looked irresistibly shiny against my skin. Was this drug making me healthier?

I raised my arms above my head and stretched longingly before dropping them slowly. With a deep breath out, I rolled my head for another stretch. _Why do I smell cotton?_

Crane leaned on the door frame, writing diligently in his notes. He noticed I was staring and came into the bathroom, setting his papers on the sink. He grabbed my wrist to check my pulse before examining my pupils. "You look good." He noted. I couldn't take it as a compliment knowing the circumstances, but I wanted to.

"I feel rejuvenated." I told him. "I feel like I can walk on water."

This high was much different from the first. Instead of the lust-filled sheets and my desire to writhe around with my hair in my face, I felt strong and refined. My body had acquired a light strength and a new found sense of beauty.

I reached out my hand to touch Crane. Surprisingly, he allowed it. My fingertips brushed his cheek softly, and I could feel my own shocks of electricity run through him. If I didn't know better, I would say that he liked it. Despite all that, I knew I was enjoying myself. Seeing his jaw tighten as my hand fell on his shoulder excited me.

"I don't taste any colors, Doctor." I sighed.

Crane grinned. "This goes beyond colors, Mira. However, it's safe to say that you look better in blue."


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNING** : This chapter contains material pertaining to a sexual assault. Please read with caution. Chapter also contains another point of view.

Chapter 7

The comedown from this drug wasn't terrible. At least, whatever I was feeling and doing didn't seem to bother Dr. Crane. I relaxed on my bed, watching a bit of television while he calmly recorded his findings in a notebook. He would occasionally ask me a question pertaining to what I was experiencing, but other than that he didn't have a whole lot to say.

I knew I should have been worried that he was here. That's something that really bothered me. I knew that this situation was wrong, but I allowed it anyways. It's like when you know you're high. Makes for a pretty bad trip, doesn't it? I wanted to do something about it, but all I could feel was a careless relaxation.

"I'll be off, Mira." Crane said boringly, keeping his eyes on his pen and notebook. "I've got another subject to test."

"What?" I scoffed as he neatly composed his things in his briefcase.

"I have another subject waiting for me." He told me with a slight roll in his eyes.

I bit the inside of my lip, hoping that I didn't make him think anything I didn't want him too. "Sure, yeah. Whatever." I shrugged, grabbing the remote. I listened to him sigh and watched him adjust his jacket from the corner of my eye.

"I have lots of subjects, Mira. You don't have to be a Queen to participate." He assured me, quite condescendingly in fact. His tone bothered me, but I kept my cool.

(-)

Crane shrugged, but then began to grit his teeth when that voice started to pester him once again. It was like the scarecrow made the inside of Crane's head his own abode; banging on the walls and tearing up the furniture. The doctor didn't know how long it would take until he broke through completely; owning him from head to toe.

 _"Leave her, Jonathan. Let's go to the next one and make her scream. Mira is such a bore, don't you think?"_

Crane stifled the voice in his head with a deep breath. He straightened himself up with his case in hand. "I'll see you tonight." He assured her and headed for the door.

"I don't work tonight." She rudely informed him with her eyes still glued to the television. He furrowed his brow in annoyance. Crane was a little disappointed that he couldn't bother her at work, but also unhappy with the way she spoke to him. He detested that disrespect, but he also knew that she wasn't worth it. Test subjects were disposable.

 _"Disposable? Good, that means it doesn't matter what we do to them."_

"Fine." He twisted his pillowy lips before forming a smile. "Whenever you come back, then."

Crane left the apartment without exchanging anymore words with Mira. The cold bit the tip of his nose as he quickly traveled down the steps of the brick building and onto the lower level of the complex. He was quick, and made sure that he was seen by none. It didn't seem possible with the way the flurries twisted around, causing the doctor to curse quietly and wish he had a better coat.

" _Where's that next one? Maybe she'll warm you up…"_

"I could freeze you out." Crane mumbled to the scarecrow.

" _That's really no fun."_

The next subject lived in the same complex as Mira. It was convenient for him; knowing he was taking a risk traveling around the city in daylight. Crane would just have to find another way to bide his time before heading back to the asylum.

He hastily opened the door to apartment 7A, shutting it behind him to avoid letting in the cold air. The room was dark, and strangely quiet. The subject he anticipated seeing was generally pretty lively, and kept her apartment much cleaner than Mira's. Crane re adjusted his glasses and glanced around, feeling something was amiss.

A picture beside the kitchen window caught his eye; something that he never noticed before. The frame was silver, with a design that resembled cherry blossoms. His subject and her companion were dressed in matching violet shirts and odd colored leggings.

" _I love when girls wear those."_

Crane mentally bit back at the scarecrow before continuing to examine the photograph. The subject held twin puppies, while her companion cradled a tiny black kitten. The kitten almost seemed to blend with the girl's wild unkempt locks.

He carefully set the frame back and cleared his throat before making his way around the apartment. Suddenly he could hear the slow hum of bath water, causing a slight panic in his step as he headed toward the source. When he reached the bathroom, all he could see was a limp arm hanging off the edge of the tub. Crane dared not touch anything when he understood what was happening.

A notepad sitting on the toilet begged his attention. Messy words were scrawled upon the pages, leaving only a few legible items. Crane furthered his eyes to the notes, careful not to make too many steps around the bathroom.

"…Bodies…RED…Piles…"

Crane left. It was actually a lucky thing, to tell the truth. It was lucky that he went to check on this subject and discover her body when he did. Now, he knew to never come back.

(-)

The sound of the disposal filled my kitchen, covering the low conversations from the television as well as the music singing from my laptop. I liked noise. Sometimes I just couldn't function without it. I set a bowl of freshly cooked shrimp aside and checked the pasta on the other end of the stove.

With a moment to spare, I grabbed my cell phone and shot a text to Jo.

"Want some lunch? Making shrimp and noodles!"

I set the phone on the counter and sighed. Most people who are single only cook food for one, but I generally make more than enough. It made me smile and wonder if I was subconsciously telling myself that I needed more friends…or maybe I just needed a significant other. It almost seemed like I was taking a psychological page from one of Crane's books. I started to laugh.

The music from the laptop had ceased. I casually turned around to see a familiar figure in a disheveled button down and stark blue eyes. _Speak of the devil._

"It looks like my next subject is unavailable." He told me, gently placing his brief case onto the table. My eyes fixated on his hands, watching them travel to his face and remove his glasses. He had pretty hands, I thought to myself. Then I remembered giving him that injection at Arkham, and how lovely his arms were.

"Oh." I said, not really having time to react. I turned back to the pasta and watched the rolling boil. "Is…is this going to become a regular thing?" I questioned, giving the water a stir. _God, how did he come in so quietly? Sure, my apartment was loud. Why didn't I sense him?_

"I'm not sure yet." I heard him say.

I grabbed the strainer and flipped the contents of the pot inside, giving it a shake before checking my phone. Jo hadn't texted me, not even to say she wouldn't be over. With a sigh, I tossed the shrimp and pasta into a bowl before pouring in some Italian dressing. I could feel Crane's eyes in my back. He studied me. I couldn't even get out the plates without shaking like a crack whore.

 _Be careful what you wish for._ I gave Crane's plate a little more food than mine. The man needed a good meal, being as skinny as he was. Carefully, I took his suitcase off the dainty table and ran it to the ottoman in the living room. He gave me a puzzled look as I set the plate in front of him and handed him a fork and napkin.

Crane didn't say a word. The two of us sat in silence, with the occasional clinking of the fork and plate. I dared look up a few times just to watch him eat, fascinated by his elegant mouth. He wasn't sloppy, not even when he sucked the angel hair between his lips and licked off the dressing.

"That was kind of you." He suddenly remarked without any hint of a smile.

"No one usually eats with me anyways." I mumbled, staring at the plate. _Damn it, Mira! A generic, "you're welcome" would have sufficed!_

"Aww, little Mira's lonely." Crane's voice changed into a menacing tone. When I looked up, his eyes were glazed over and his jaw tightened threateningly. "Do I get to eat your dessert too?"

I jumped back from the table as I watched Crane's head shift from side to side, like he was fighting himself. He struggled and smacked himself in the face several times, speaking in two different tones. The words were so violently spat at each other, rolling into an increasing avalanche of insanity. Finally, I could see him give up. Crane wasn't here anymore.

He re-composed himself, straightening his back and adjusting his jacket. It seemed like the scarecrow was trying on new clothes. _Maybe he was trying on his body?_

"I like girl's with dark hair." He smirked, walking closer to me with an arrogant saunter. I was paralyzed in fear, disturbed by his unnatural smile and raspy voice. Something about him made him seem taller and otherworldly. _Like a scarecrow._

I backed up, feeling myself push back against the kitchen counter. The scarecrow did not yield, but continued moving until I felt his body on mine. He still smelled sweetly clean like normal Dr. Crane, and it was the only thing that could keep me from screaming. I turned my head away from him, unable to look into those eyes.

Cold hands wrapped around my neck. He forced my face to look back at him, into those horrifying eyes. No, they weren't particularly gentle even when he was Crane. Scarecrow seemed to have dirty snow eyes; lifeless and withering. "You smell like Amber." He groaned, pushing his nose in my hair with one hand around my neck. "I hope you taste just as good."

My lip quivered terribly. A small shriek escaped my lips as I felt his hand tangle within my hair, deeply close to my scalp. He quickly pulled my head back, bringing sharp tears to my eyes. I had never felt so weak in my life; so helpless and utterly _frozen._

"Please, stop." I managed to peep. "Please.

Scarecrow closed his eyes and whispered. "Say that again." He shook me, seemingly getting off by the begging. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. My mouth remained tight lipped after that.

"That's alright, honey. I'll just have to make you do what I want."

Despite the TV still going, his voice was the only thing I could hear. Those terrible words hung in the air, playing back and forth inside of my head. They played even as he jerked me back again, keeping his hand on the back of my neck as he laid half of my body back onto the kitchen counter. _This is it. I'm done._

He greedily ran his tongue down my neck. I might have enjoyed it if it was someone else, but not this. This was not of love; it was of utter dominance and fear. I felt him suck and bite all over, beginning to make his way to my chest.

I lulled my head over, and through my hot tears, I saw a piece of salvation. I parted my legs, inciting an increased amount of lust within scarecrow. Like the beast he was, I felt him grind his hips against me as he left a final bite on my upper breast. He traveled down to my lower half and I searched for a moment.

I had a split second at the most. The moment I saw him become preoccupied with my sweats, I grabbed my salvation; the beautiful cast iron pan. Before he looked up, Scarecrow went back down again. I was in control now.


	8. Chapter 8

Happy Holidays!

Chapter 8

Nothing else could convince me that I was finished. There would be no more testing, and there would certainly be no more afternoon surprises. Never again would I put myself in that sad situation, one where I would have to use a kitchen appliance in order to save my life. I cried freely over the Scarecrow, hoping I wouldn't wake him up. God, he would be so pissed.

I had to take a minute to sit down. The tears burning down my cheeks as I seethed through gritted teeth. I was too stupid, repeating my mistakes over and over again. Memories came back as I tried to smack some sense back into my head. It wouldn't work. All I could think about was my tendency to over indulge myself in curiosity and fantasy. I pay dearly every single time.

With a final snivel, I headed to my bedroom and searched through my drawers for some handcuffs. Yes, they were the kind of handcuffs used for 'fun'. Needless to say, I didn't even take them out of the package since Jo gave them to me as a gag birthday gift. Fluffy pink and silver pair of bastards they were, shining in the middle drawer like a fresh hooker. I freed them from the packaging and slipped the keys in my bra.

He was still laying there on the kitchen floor. Peaceful, but somehow he didn't seem harmless. I dragged him, realizing he must have weighed more than he looked. Maybe he had some hidden muscle packed away, I wondered. _Obviously, he over powered you in your own kitchen._

I managed to get him on my bed after a minute, and immediately cuffed his wrists around a part of the cherry headboard. A smirk appeared on my face as I kindly covered him with the ever so feminine rose comforter; baby blue and golden leaves all over. The ivory pillows contrasted with the red mess streaming from his forehead, causing me to head back to the kitchen and grab a few towels. _Maybe you shouldn't let him sleep, Mira. He could have a concussion._

"Concussion my ass. _"_ I said. "He can sleep and never wake back up."

I sat beside him and pressed on the wound, soaking up most of the blood. He wasn't bleeding any worse than normal. Head wounds tend to have a lot of blood, and the same can be said with fingers. No, I wasn't too concerned.

After getting his head taken care of, I took off his shoes and set them in my closet. Then, I grabbed another clean rag and soaked it in some cold water for his forehead. I was being too kind to him, but it didn't change how I felt. Once it turned dark, I'd just drug him up and drag him back out to Arkham.

There was a bang, followed by the ringing of the door bell. I panicked, wondering who the fuck was there instead of just going out to see. Obviously it wasn't Jo; she usually walked in on me sitting on the toilet.

"Be good." I whispered, pulling the blanket up to his nose. I grabbed an old green jacket from the closet and zipped it to my neck before darting to the front door. The ringing continued.

I didn't need to look through the peep hole. Blue and red lights shimmered as I passed my window, briefly catching a glimpse of the two officers in uniform. They waited patiently in the frigid air as my heart jumped to my throat. _If they want Crane, just give him to them Mira. Make up a story, you can do that._

Flurries danced through my house as soon as I opened the door. It seemed that the storm was getting bad, so I kindly invited them in. "Sorry, I didn't know the weather was getting this bad. Do you want something warm to drink?" I asked coolly, trying to remain calm.

"Coffee would be nice if you have some." The female officer said. She was a pretty tall gal, with round grey eyes. It was kind of hard to take my eyes off of her as she sat down next to her partner. As I measured out the coffee in the kitchen, I thought about how she looked like an Amazonian woman. It was comical seeing her sit next to the officer. He was a good five inches shorter than her, and definitely more plain looking.

"It's brewing." I told them as I walked back in. "Can I help you with something?"

"I apologize for barging in, ma'm. It was too cold out there." The woman laughed and gave a wide smile. "I hope we have the right apartment, we were looking for a Mira Thorne."

The two held up their badges to verify. "My name is Rosemary Flannagan. This is my partner, Lucas Edwards."

I cleared my throat. "Yes. Mira, I'm Mira."

"You're not in trouble, miss." The officer Edwards spoke up, his voice was a little deeper than I would have expected. "We just have some questions to ask you."

I nodded to them before hearing a beep from the kitchen. "One moment," I told them and searched around for some cups. My kitchen was disorganized, but I managed to find my favorite penguin mug set. Sure, they could use them for now.

The two shifted on the love seat as I handed over the fresh warmth. They looked uncomfortable, and I hoped to God it was only because my house was a mess. The black coffee table had bills scattered all over the place, and the red recliner housed a pile of jackets and scarves. My heart raced when I saw that Crane's suitcase was still on the matching ottoman! Clumsily, I moved it over next to the recliner and plopped down on the short cushion.

"What is your relation to Josephine Preston?"

I snorted. "Josephine? You're asking about Jo, oh my god did she steal a toothbrush or something?" I laughed, knowing they were probably mistaken or coming in for some stupid charge. Someone probably stole her identity, and they just _happen_ to show up after I knocked out the Scarecrow. I immediately felt better, knowing I'd save myself the unreasonable guilt of handing him over. Then, I remembered how Jo didn't text me back.

"Really though, she is my best friend. I'm sure whatever she did will get cleared up."

They exchanged worried looks. I shrugged it off, thinking maybe it was a little serious. _Just a little serious._

"I apologize, miss. Josephine was found dead in her apartment. It looks like she committed suicide sometime this morning."

"Sure." I laughed, speaking instead of reacting. "Sure, I know _that's_ not true. She wouldn't have done that."

 _It's more than a little serious._

"Mira, we identified the victim as Josephine Pre-"

"Her name is Jo! Her fucking name is Jo, and she's not a victim. I will call her right now and she is going to apologize for not texting me back, and then we'll have sushi or something." I clenched my fists, glaring into Flannagan's face. I ran back to the kitchen and searched for my cell, then punched in the numbers on the touch screen and waited.

"She's going to answer me." I said. Their faces softened; like watching an injured animal. It kept ringing, and ringing.

"Hey it's Jo! You know what to do and when to do it!"

There was a beep. "Hey, it's Mira. You owe me a lunch date." My voice tapered off into a thin chirp.

Officer Edwards stood up, tightening his jaw as he threw his coat back on. "Mira, I think we need to give you some time to grieve." He handed me a card, my phone still pressed to my ear. I didn't acknowledge it, so he set it on the ottoman. "We'll be in touch."

He left without another word. Flannagan stayed behind for a moment, lightly patting my shoulder and smiling. "Is there someone that can be here with you so you're not alone?"

"Yeah." I told her. "I've got someone."

She smiled and thanked me for the coffee before heading out the door like Edwards. My feet were glued to the spot, staring deeply into the eggshell colored walls. It was a boring color, almost like nothing, absolutely nothing. My hands didn't move, and the phone was attached to my ear.

The police were gone, and so was the sun. I was frozen just like the white hell that was raging outside. I threw off the jacket once I remembered that I could move. Then, I threw the phone at the door. There was no satisfaction in that, so I screamed. The screaming made my throat weak, but I didn't achieve the pain I ached for.

My fist hit the wall a few times, and I shattered a heavy glass from the cabinet. Shards went everywhere all over the linoleum, big pieces and tiny ones too. I hit the floor, next to the scattered pieces, staring at them in a strange trance of peace.

Everything was so blurry and so dizzy to me, but god those pieces of glass looked so pretty on the floor. They weren't cold like snowflakes, but they shined just as well. Would the shards melt in my hands like the snow too? Would they disappear within me? I reached my hand out. I wanted to see.

"Be good." A voice said.

I didn't just ignore the voice; I physically couldn't react to it. The hands I felt were different than the ones from earlier, even though I knew they were exactly the same. No, I didn't wonder how the Doctor became free; because I couldn't think. All I did was feel everything shooting toward me.

He lifted me like a toddler, putting his hands beneath my armpits and getting me back on my feet. My knees buckled and released, but he got me right back up and set me on the kitchen counter like before.

"Damn cheap handcuffs, Mira." He smiled grim. No reaction; he could have cut me in half with a saw and I wouldn't have disapproved.

I didn't protest when he threw my body over his shoulder and carried me back to the bedroom. Still, he wasn't kind when he clumsily dropped me onto the bed and threw the covers over my face. I _did_ push them over, and saw him look out the window. He looked so pretty in the light. _Pretty isn't the word to use._

"Are you going back to Arkham?" I asked, not recognizing my own voice.

"Not in this." He responded, still looking dreamily out the window.

"I'm sorry about your head, Doctor Crane. The Scarecro-"

"You did what you needed to." He snapped. "Now go to sleep, you sound pathetic."

The words stung, and the tears rolled down my face without any signs of stopping. I hurt so badly, and for some fucked up reason, I just wanted Crane to like me; Maybe just enough to provide a slight comfort in the night.

"You can sleep here tonight." I mumbled. "It doesn't matter to me."

He ignored me, still staring out the window. I wondered if Crane liked watching the snow like I watched the glass. "I'm asking you to stay with me." I pressed, a little more assertive. "Please."

Crane slowly looked over before rolling his eyes. I watched him take off his jacket and fish for a hanger in the closet. Pulling out a few, he hung his jacket, button down, and even his pants before sauntering over in a pair of boxers. It was odd, seeing him out of the majority of his clothes. The man had a lean figure with a fair layer of muscle. He ran a hand through his messy locks, giving a sigh and sneaking under the blanket.

"I hope you weren't intending to cuddle." He scolded, keeping his body on the opposite side of the bed.

"No. I just want to be broken for the night.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you guys for all the reviews, they are truly motivating!

Chapter 9

There was a second between sleep and the light of the day that showed an empty side of my bed. After that moment, I remembered yesterday's unfortunate events. Crane was gone at the moment, and Jo was gone forever. God, I wasn't just tired but I was skittish. I couldn't shake that sleep from my body, no matter how much rest I gave myself.

I didn't stay in bed all day, despite how difficult it was to force myself out. No, I still had another day to myself before heading back to work. I showered, cranking the heat so high that I hoped it would melt away my sadness. No, sadness wasn't the word to use. I wanted fire to rain down on my body and rip away my memories, pain, and regret. I could die and start over. That was the key.

The dark circles beneath my eyes were difficult to conquer, but it could be done by the power of makeup. After fussing over my face, I pulled on an olive colored V-neck and a pair of black jeans. That was about as dressed up as I was going to get. The blank expression on my face turned sour in the mirror, examining a tiny hole developing at the end of the long sleeve. "I really don't give a shit." I growled, trying to shake some volume into the ashy black tresses.

Was it too cold outside? I opened the window and felt a gust of air, but the sun seemed to cast some sort of relief, melting a bit of the snow on the ground. My cell phone played a jingle in the short distance. I wanted to let it ring, remembering that threatening message a received not long ago. Somehow, I still answered it anyway.

"This is Mira." My voice came out as a croak.

"Mira? This is Rosemary Flannagan with GCPD. Any chance you could come by and continue with some questions?"

I half expected it to be a bill collector or something stupid, so I didn't really listen. When I realized who it was, I still kind of shrugged it off. "What?" I responded reflexively. "I mean, yeah. Sure."

She said something nice; something about a thank you and a sorry. Nothing registered with me today. I didn't even care that Crane was gone. Part of me wished he could give me some of those drugs to give me a sense of clarity; to feel something clean like blue or warm and savory like red. Then again, it wasn't a good thought. I needed my pain to feel real. An illusion could be more detrimental to my health than the truth.

"If today were a color… today would be…" I mused out loud. Then I remembered the horrifying look in the Scarecrow's eyes. That white, the impure color that looked like filthy snow; run over and scraped away. Yes, there it was. That was the color I never wanted.

I drove to the department without a thought in my head. One foot in front of the other was progress as far as I was concerned. I locked up the car, threw my hands in my pockets, and headed for the doors. One foot in front of the other…

 _So much coffee…_.

The place reeked of caffeine, and had an all around dark aura to it. Some small talk here and there, but it wasn't bustling with action or people running around in a panic like they show on TV.

"Ma'am?"

I bit the inside of my cheek lightly, just to have something to chew on. Nail biting was something I did when I was twelve, and I quickly discovered how disgusting a habit that was.

"Ma'am?"

Two older men were laughing to themselves over a couple boxes of Chinese. Another lady had her face buried into a computer, talking to herself quietly between sips from a small plastic cup. She couldn't afford to be distracted, so she shot an unpleasant look to the other two. They quieted down, but not without a few choice words.

"Ma'am is there somethi-"

"WHAT?"

I managed to silence the whole room, catching the attention of every cop present and the violent glare of the receptionist. A warm hand rested on my shoulder before I heard a flood of apologies. I was escorted away, taken to a messy desk with a metal chair and handed a cup full of unknown contents.

"Forgive my mess, Mira." She smiled, attempting to straighten her papers. I glanced around and found no photographs of family or anything to show she had a life outside of work. Maybe she didn't. Flannagan was quite lovely though, she _had_ to have something to occupy her in her daily life besides being a cop. She would be crazy otherwise.

"Let's go." I told her with a wave of my hand. She nodded and pulled out an ink pen.

"How was Jo the last time you saw her?"

I reached back into my mind. The last time I saw her, she was checking on me because of Dr. Crane. I answered differently, knowing it wouldn't matter either way. "We had a lunch date together about a week ago, maybe. She was her usual self, I would say."

"Okay and how would you describe your relationship?" Flannagan continued. I just rolled with it.

"We were pretty close, but we didn't talk all the time. Jo and I went to the same nursing school, so we started out as study buddies and just sort of became good friends. I've known her since I was around eighteen."

"Only since you were eighteen? How old are you now?"

"I'm twenty-four. I've been in Gotham since I was sixteen."

 _Steer it away from you, Mira. Get back to Jo; don't tell her more than she needs to know._

"Jo wouldn't have killed herself. I know people say that all the time, but there is no way she could have done that."

Flannagan scribbled with her pen before taking a deep breath. "Do you know a lot about her family life; maybe any other friends she might have had?"

I thought carefully and realized that I didn't know a lot about her family, and the only friends that came to mind were other girls from school. It made me feel shitty.

"Her parents divorced, but I'm pretty sure her mom re-married. As far as I know, she was an only child. She was originally from Rhode Island before she came here for school."

She kept nodding as she wrote. "Thank you, Mira. Now, I just have one more question to ask you." Flannagan pulled out a paper, covered in grey like it had been photocopied. Upon further inspection, I saw the scribbles of the dark words.

"There were piles of bodies upon one another. Red bodies were all I could see, and no matter how hard I ran, I couldn't escape from the chase. They're coming for me." I read out loud through clenched teeth. Keep it together, keep it together!

My lips trembled. "I don't know what that means, I'm sorry." I handed back the paper, unable to keep the tears from falling. "What is this? Did she write this?"

"We found it next to her body. I had hoped that maybe you would understand what it meant." Flannagan explained.

"I wish you never showed me that." I scolded, wiping my tears on my sleeve. The sound of the chair grating against the floor startled Flannagan before she realized I was leaving.

"Mira, wait!"

"I can't do this." I told her as I walked away. She didn't catch up.

I ran around the building and threw up in the snow. My stomach forced itself inside out relentlessly until there was nothing inside me. Strangely, I found myself feeling a lot better despite the dizziness in my head. Slowly, I wiped my face and straightened myself up before searching for my car.

Once I finished fastening my seatbelt, I fumbled in my wallet for my bank card. I picked up my phone and dialed Jo's number before laughing and throwing it at the window. How long would it take me to remember? How often would I stupidly dial her number before realizing that she was gone?

"I need more friends." I breathed, understanding that I was going to binge shop on my own.

Four hours after the meeting with Rosemary Flannagan at the GCPD, I was back at the apartment. Lugging in four hundred dollars worth of clothes and two hundred dollars worth of miscellaneous shit still didn't seem to fill that hole in my heart. I didn't expect it to, but I gave it a shot.

I put the new clothes in the closet and set the shoes beneath them. Everything that didn't belong to me laid out on the bed, ready to be folded and stuffed away somewhere else. I bought Crane some decent shirts that were on sale at the store. Some were grey and others were black, but only because I didn't think I could see the Doctor willingly sporting any other color.

There was a box hidden away in my closet, so I pulled it out and folded the clothes neatly inside. I don't know why I did that for him. Crane could be long gone for all I knew. Maybe he would never come back. Fighting the thought, I pushed the box into the closet and carefully closed the doors.

I saw something taped to my television. A note? Why I didn't notice it before was strange to me. I anxiously grabbed it, taking a minute to analyze the words written on the thin sheet of paper.

 _"_ _Please come to work tonight. If you're not here by 9 PM, you will be escorted. Doctor's orders."_

"Fuck off." I said to the note and threw it on the floor. _"_ I'm taking back your clothes, Crane. I knew I never should have felt sorry for you."

The clock read six, meaning I had time to make a choice. Sure I could call the cops, but then I'd draw suspicion from Flannagan and her partner. I wasn't guilty of anything besides participating in Crane's drug trial. If the police ever found out about that, I'd have a tower of problems fall over me.

I fought with myself. Arkham definitely had more issues than I knew of; from the employees to those pieces of shit lights in the basement. _Play the game, Mira. Seek it out, and fix the problem internally._

"I don't even know what the problem is." I told myself.

Oh no. What if my supervisor found out that Crane was at my house? Did Jessica have Crane bring the note to my apartment? There was no telling how anyone at Arkham would react if they found out. I mean, obviously they were the ones responsible for letting Crane out every so often, I just didn't know what the purpose was. Did he pay them to do it? Maybe he gave them drugs? Oh I could just imagine the plucky nurse, Jessica Sterling. She would have the needle shoved up her arm, convulsing to pastel pinks and purples all night long. The visionary made me laugh harder than it should have.

 _I have nothing else to do._

No, I didn't. I just left my place; I left it locked with the note still on the floor. I got back into my vehicle and I drove. There were no snow flurries in the air, just the peace and quiet of the already darkened night. "Freaks come out at night." I told myself, twisting the dial to the heater. There was a baseball bat in the backseat, and I kept pepper spray on my hip, just in case any freaks decided to come and play.

I rolled my head in a stretch and sighed, putting the car in park. A sudden chill in the air made me cringe, and I wished I had actually worn a coat instead of leaving in such a hurry. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if I was a damn idiot to come here in the first place, but I figured it was too late. I made it this far.

I swung open the familiar door and greeted the receptionist. By this time, she was still here and hadn't left for the night. A couple of doctors chatted in the hallway, but otherwise, the place was pretty empty.

"Mira? Ms. Sterling is expecting you downstairs." The receptionist chirped with wide eyes. I didn't respond.

Everything was going to be fine. There were enough people here to see if something bad was going to go down. I reached the elevator and leaned on the wall lazily as I listened to it ding here and there, waiting to be taken to the bottom floor. Everything seemed to stop the moment I hit the bottom; sounds, movement, and life. Complete silence engulfed the air, and those stupid lights weren't even on.

"Jessica." I said coldly, clutching the pepper spray, _This bitch, I swear I will beat y-_

There were hands everywhere, and I heard the shuffle of feet as I struggled between them. I screamed and punched the air over and over again. Two times I hit someone's flesh, but never heard a cry of pain. I realized that I was being taken over, and I gave up once my back hit the chair. My arms were strapped down, and so were my legs. God, it was still so dark in the room. How could they see?

Finally a light flickered on. Three figures stood above me. The tallest wore a three pointed pink hat and a skimpy strapless dress, covered in lilac purple and enough sparkles to suffocate a small child. I recognized the second woman, but only because of her copper colored curls. She wore a long white doctor's coat and a teal face mask. The third wore a burlap sack over his head, and his too well known tattered black dress coat.

"You know, a jester is a fool." I laughed harshly. "If you think you're some kind of Harley Quinn, then I hate to tell you how fucking horribly you have failed you stupid slut."

Jessica gave a shrill laugh and lovingly leaned her head on the scarecrow's shoulder. He stiffened a bit, like something Dr. Crane would do. "Can we just shut her up?" Allison growled, holding a needle in her hand.

"I'll get you too, bitch." I warned her. "Don't think I haven't forgotten how you punched me out the other night."

"Sure, Mira." She rolled her eyes before pulling out an alcohol swab and cleaning my arm, gripping it and seeking a vein.

"Dr. Crane, stop this now." I begged. "I know you're somewhere in there. Please, don't let them d-"

She pushed the drugs inside before I could finish. I screamed profanities, throwing my head back and forth like it would do me any good. Before I knew it, the needle was out of me. The trio of horrors stood back, watching and waiting for a reaction.

"She's such a fighter." The Jester giggled, batting her pink eyelashes at Crane. Allison just stood aside, eyes darting back and forth between me and a chart on the counter.

The Scarecrow moved away from The Jester, arms crossed and stepping dangerously close to me. I caught the sad overdramatic look on the Jester's face before I felt the burlap sack graze the tip of my nose. My vision started to become clouded as I stared into his eyes.

"You really hurt me, Mira." He told me. "Crane isn't here to protect you tonight. In fact, I can hear him right now." He pointed to the back of his head. "But I'm not listening."

His voice was the last thing I heard.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I found myself driving a car down an old, abandoned road. It had to have been very late, with only my headlights leading the way through the dark night. The ditches on the side of the road were horrifyingly deep, and the trees were too tall for me to see the branches. It wasn't winter anymore. Spring was gone, and now I felt myself gripping the wheel to a strangely eerie summer night. The road was endless. I drove for hours on end, or so it seemed.

It was such a simple position, but so strangely scary. I don't know if I ever felt so scared of something like this before. So I tried to stop the car, but the brakes wouldn't budge. There was an urge for me to cry, but physically, I just couldn't. It was almost as if I wasn't meant to do anything other than stare at the white lights in front of me. _It was almost as if I wasn't allowed to do anything but watch._

A figure emerged on the side of the road. As I neared the image, I saw that it wasn't standing or sitting, but it was floating over the ditch. The car began to slow down as I approached the thing. The headlights flashed over the being, and to my horror, I discovered it was actually a body.

I knew her, even though I had not seen or spoken with her for a time. Still, I loved her. Her curly brown hair fell past her slackened jaw, while her lifeless coffee colored eyes looked towards the sky. She wore a long cotton night gown and no shoes over delicate feet. Even from behind the dirty window, I could still count the beauty marks on her cheeks; marks that reflected my own.

"Mom?" I whispered.

She floated like an angel. Her pale arms hung down her sides, legs hanging loosely beneath her with painted green toenails. I missed her pedicures so much, and the smell of her perfume when she readied for work.

Her neck jerked back, and crimson flowed all over her chest and gown. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. _Put your fists on the window!_ No, I couldn't do anything. My body flowed with adrenaline and pure horror, but I couldn't use any of it to my advantage. I wasn't allowed to. As I watched her jaw widen and listened to her groans, the car began to pick up speed. I watched my mother writhe in the rear view mirror. The seatbelt tightened around my chest, and I was forced to watch the white headlights once again.

 _Wake up! Force yourself out of this! Move your body!_

I couldn't. I was still behind the wheel.

 _Scream! You have to scream!_

My lips parted, but no one would hear me.

 _SCREAM!_

I was just a baby bird, discovering a tiny croak in the back of my throat. It grew louder, like a low growl. Suddenly I started to become aware. My legs shook, and I could feel the sound of my voice fill my lungs and straight into the air. I moved my body uncontrollably despite the straps that tightened my limbs. My eyes flew open, and I saw the trio staring back at me with wild expressions.

The Jester planted a kiss on the raggedy burlap sack over Scarecrow's head. Copper colored curls swayed back and force as Allison laughed heartily at my pain. God, what I would have given to lunge at them. I would have eaten them all alive if I could.

"Mommy! Oh poor mooommmy!" Jester squealed, pointing her finger at me. She jumped up and down, clicking her ridiculous heels on the floor. "Mommy isn't here!"

Seeing that silly outfit of hers brought me back to reality, well, a fucked up reality anyways. It wasn't real; just an illusion concocted by the drugs that were being developed and forced inside me. But, what was Jester's reality?

I cleared my weak throat, ready to test out my voice again. Sure, I was still coming down from the drug, but Jester brought my wits about me. "At least I've got a mommy. I reckon yours is dead on account of how old you are." I said plainly. She immediately silenced, obtaining looks from Allison and Scarecrow. A frustrated look spread across her face.

"Give her more." Jester whined to them.

"No." Allison scolded. "It will fuck up the results." She threw her hands in the air, still holding the charts. Scarecrow folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head over slightly as if finding the proper angle to watch me.

I felt my hair plastered to my cheeks, coated in sweat. My mouth became dry with every longing second that passed. The straps that held me down drew red lines all across my limbs. Still, my body shivered at the Scarecrow's stare; even more so as I listened to his footsteps. His steps weren't calculated, but shuffled and quick. He scratched his head through the burlap before leaning over me; hand quick to grasp my throat.

"Do you…" He began hoarsely, but stopped. His tight grip loosened slightly as I began to choke. He smelled sweaty, with a hint of sweetness on the end; from Jester no doubt.

"…sorry." A whisper fell, muffled through the mask. His hands began to tense up around my neck again, and I heard Allison and Jester talking in hushed voices from behind him.

"Dr. Crane?" I managed to mumble through his grip.

"I told you, the doctor isn't here!" He scolded, delivering a slap to my face. All I could do was whimper at the pain. Jester's thin giggle soared across the room as I glared into the light above me. My stomach felt like it was ready to turn inside out once again.

The scarecrow took a few steps back and shook his head before arrogantly placing his hands on his hips. "Looks like I'm taking this one home." He declared, clean cut voice more ragged than usual. "Jessica, please write out some forms for me. Mira doesn't work here anymore and I'm no longer a patient."

By this time, my eyes were shut tight. I couldn't see, but I could practically hear the sound of their jaws drop. "I-I don't…" Jester began in disbelief. "Now, I don't think I can..."

"That's not what I want to hear." He growled lowly. "Pull whatever strings you need; I don't care if you have to weave them yourself."

Jester argued back, but she was silenced by the clearing of his throat. "Knock her out, Allison."

I didn't fight back as she cleaned my other arm, preparing for another injection. My eyes remained shut and I welcomed the needle. Voices turned into distant whispers, and I felt myself fade into black.

There were no dreams that time, only a sleep that I greedily consumed. A hammer to the head couldn't wake me at that point. I only knew because of how I felt when I awoke; on my back and completely rigid with the comforter up to my chest. My body was placed on the bed carefully and I had remained in the same spot for several hours. The clock said it was a little past three in the morning, delivering a dreamy like shudder to my body. I wasn't generally superstitious, but three in the morning was always such a strange time of night. It was too late, but much too early and dark. The silence in my bedroom was tangible, rendering me paralyzed and terrified of the dark. Only the red on the clock flashed.

 _3:14_

I spread my arms out slowly, accidentally hitting something heavy next to me before retracting my arms. A whimper escaped my lips as I slowly reached out again, feeling what seemed like exposed flesh. There were only two possibilities as to who was next to me, and they were almost one in the same.

Again, I reached out my arm to touch. My hand searched his skin, falling into his hair and back to his shoulder. He didn't make a sound or respond, and I wondered how deep of a sleep he had fallen into. Maybe he knocked himself out too, or maybe he was just too tired from being such a sick cunt. Either way, I wasn't sure what I was dealing with. This was my home and my bed, and I needed to prove it.

My other hand searched for the nightstand, reaching for the lamp. I quickly switched it on and saw him in his slumber; mouth slightly parted as he rested on his side. For a moment, I watched him, even counted his freckles and brushed some of his hair back. I felt sorry for Dr. Crane, but not for the Scarecrow.

After awhile, I finally built up the courage to leave my room. I quietly glided to the kitchen and opened a drawer in search for a knife. Once I found one that I was satisfied with, I carefully tip toed back to my bedroom. He remained in the same position, completely undisturbed as I crawled over the blanket.

 _I don't know who you want to be tonight, but I'm going to find out._

I carefully swung my leg over him, resting gently on top as I placed the knife beneath his throat. With my other hand, I softly grabbed a fistful of his hair before thrusting it back, causing his electric brights to fly open in shock. He didn't move upon seeing the knife, especially when I pushed the cold blade to his skin.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I questioned.

He coolly raised an eyebrow and moaned. "I was sleeping."

"You think you can just come over and sleep? After what you did to me? Give me a reason why I shouldn't tie you up right now."

He shrugged and rolled his eyes closed before licking his lips. "Because I'll like it more if you tied me up."

"Dr. Crane?" I questioned, slightly pulling the knife away.

"Speaking."

"You know I have to do it. I have to protect myself from the Scarecrow." I warned him, concluding that I needed to do something. If I went back to bed, I might've woken back up next to something else.

"Scarecrow not here." He mumbled. "Took some drugs, he'll be out for awhile." Dr. Crane slowly shut his eyes, but I wasn't through with him yet.

"What did you take?"

"A prescription to keep it at bay. Mira, if I was going to kill you, you wouldn't be here to harass me." He assured me, voice becoming raspier as he drawled on. Something about the sound made me love it, and I hated myself for it. I hated the way I felt sorry for Dr. Crane, even though I did understand that he was indeed mentally ill. The man needed help, and he surely didn't need people like Allison and Jessica to enforce the Scarecrow. Could I truly care for him? Was he even worth it?

"You're pushing it doctor." I insisted, keeping a tight grip on the weapon.

His eyes opened back up and a mischievous grin played at his lips. "I'd like this so much better if you didn't have the knife."

I was annoyed, even though the suggestion got me going in ways I wouldn't acknowledge. "Where were you when the Scarecrow forced me to see all of those things? You know he tried to rape me in my kitchen, and then I found out that my best friend died! How would you expect me to react right now?"

Dr. Crane didn't look at me; in fact, he avoided my eyes like he was guilty. Talking about Jo again made my throat numb and spilled tears down my cheeks. I wanted him to look at me, if only for just a moment. I just wanted my sorrow to be acknowledged.

He hesitated, and then attempted to roll over. I scratched his neck with the blade inciting an 'ouch' from between his gritted teeth. Suddenly, his arm slipped up and smacked the knife from my hand. Before I could react any further, he grabbed my neck and slammed me down, head narrowly missing the headboard.

He put a hand on my neck to keep me down, but didn't use aggressive force. Cranes delicate face lingered over mine, angry yet strangely calm as well. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I don't understand how many fucking times I have to tell you this." He scolded, making me feel quite insignificant. Even when he was upset, there was prettiness to him. It was his voice that needed deliverance.

Crane sighed, rising back up and moving to the edge of the bed. I watched his back in the dim light, noting the smooth skin and the innocence of his messy hair. He looked so human to me. All I could think about was how I wanted to reach over and touch him. "I asked the Scarecrow to let you go."

I blinked my eyes, unable to respond. Crane lowered his head and scratched the back of his neck. Then, I reached my arm out and traced my finger over his lower back carefully. Crane shivered unexpectedly at the touch, almost seething. I dropped my hand in response.

"It's okay, Mira." He told me as he rubbed his eyes.

Once again, I reached out to him. This time, I used a nail to lightly scratch his muscle. A sigh breathed between his lips and I felt his back begin to stretch. Pale arms extended into the air, gracefully like a silent acrobat as his body fell into the pillows next to me.

"I know you're horny, but I'm tired." He whispered after nestling beneath the comforter.

"I am no…" I couldn't finish my sentence. Crane was already snoozing, leaving me wide awake next to him. So I pushed myself closer, holding an open palm against his back as I wondered what I was going to do.


	11. Chapter 11

"Christmas is next week." I mumbled, pulling the tea string up and down. "I need to go shopping."

Crane wasn't listening. He sat on the couch in front of the coffee table, occasionally pushing back his glasses and scribbling into at least one of his many notebooks. My house was plenty cleaner with him around. I managed to get most of the laundry put away, and I even dusted that morning to keep myself somewhat occupied. Even the sound of the vacuum didn't seem to bother him any. I wondered if he might have welcomed the dull noise.

I sat on the recliner and crossed my bare legs, wrapping my long sleeves around the cup to avoid the burn. With a small sip here and there, I glanced from Crane and back to the television. He was a prettier sight to tell the truth. He was even wearing one of the casual black v neck shirts I bought for him the other day. Well, at least those didn't go to waste, I thought.

Christmas time was generally something I kind of ignored. My parents would call and ask how I was, but that was routine. I figured they didn't want to seem like complete bastards and outright ignore me. They called on my birthday too, but that was also a given. Things would be even stranger without Jo this time around. She'd invited me to some parties, but I think that was truly the only way I celebrated. I don't know why I mentioned it to Crane though. Maybe I just wanted to have something to talk about.

"So, I'm gonna go shopping then." I persisted, not unkindly. "Do I need to get anything in particular?"

He raised his head slightly and sighed. "Were you thinking about cooking a meal for the holiday?"

I hesitated. "I mean, sure. It's just going to be the two of us."

"No awkward family reunions?"

"Actually, no."

He flipped a page in his notebook and then grabbed a large sip of coffee. "Thank god."

Crane did let me go. However, I don't know why I felt like he was _letting_ me go. I suppose when he told me to be quick, that was when I knew. He did pass me a fifty on the way out, so I quickly dropped the thought and went on my way to the grocery store. Oh god, what was I going to cook? Shit, I didn't even know what the guy liked to eat. What if he was one of those guys that only ate fish? _Well I'm a goddamn American and I eat ham for Christmas._

I refrained from wearing any makeup to the store, hoping no one would recognize me without it. I still wore that grey shabby sweatshirt from the morning, but I replaced the cotton shorts for an old pair of jeans. Yeah, no one would recognize my homeless looking ass. At least, I hoped so. Come to find out, I was wrong.

"Mira, hello." I heard a voice.

 _Flannagan._

"Hi, how are you?" I greeted, searching aimlessly for some boxed stuffing. A small red headed child cut her way through, long braid swaying behind her back like a whip. Flannagan stood at the other side of the boxed foods with her hand on her hip, displeased that the child was running around without so much as an 'excuse me.'

"Cassie, apologize to Mira!" Flannagan scolded.

"I'm sorry miss." She looked at me with sad eyes, holding tightly onto an _Elsa_ doll. I hated that movie.

"It's alright. I'm tired, I wouldn't have noticed." I laughed it off. The girl was too big to be in a cart, but she crawled in anyways, standing inside whilst her sneakers lit up annoyingly. _Kids…_

"Are you doing okay?" Flannagan asked as I grabbed a box of stuffing.

"I'll live. Sorry I ran out on you."

"I understand, there's no need to apologize." She assured me with a smile. Flannagan was so pretty despite her Amazonian stature. I bet she had a handsome husband to go with her cute daughter too. So simple and kind, I thought to myself. "Looks like you've got some Christmas dinner, no?"

I did a double take. "What?"

Flannagan laughed. "Well you've got a ham."

"Oh yeah, I mean, I'm just doing something small. I'll be alone so I guess I'll just eat my feelings this year."

Flannagan smiled awkwardly, and I think her daughter even sensed the uncomfortable silence. "I mean, you know. I didn't mean to be weird, but I'm just…coping."

"You could always stop by and see us. Our door is open if you feel like you need to be with people."

The offer punched me in the heart, but not in a bad way. "Maybe I'll take you up on that." I told her, not completely rejecting the invitation. "I should let you go; I think she's getting antsy."

Cassie tried to reach something on the top shelf before her mom shot her a look of disapproval. Flannagan smiled, and we began heading in opposite directions. I really wanted to cry, but I tried not to. By the time my cart was full, I was really fighting the tears. Once I left the building, I lost it. Between putting bags of groceries in my car, I sniveled like a scolded child ready for bed. Why the hell was I even crying?

Do I have everything I need? I started thinking on the drive back to the apartment; thinking about stupid everyday shit that regular people with families think about. Yeah, I've got a ham and some stuffing too. I remembered the apple and cranberry juice too.

I turned up the radio a little bit, shocked to hear a decent song playing. I sang to it, cautiously putting my foot on the break to avoid the fucker that cut me off.

 _Wake up  
And face me  
Don't play dead  
'cause maybe  
Someday I'll walk away and say  
You disappoint me  
Maybe you're better off this way_

I pulled up to the apartment and shut off the car. I should have taken two trips for the groceries, but it's the twenty first century and no one does that. So I grabbed the bags, feeling the plastic twist my wrists heavily as the snow chewed at my cheeks. The wind picked up, and the bitter cold was unforgiving.

Once I reached the door, I knocked with the tip of my shoe. There was no answer. I almost called for him to open the door, but then realized saying his name would be inappropriate. I put down the bags and opened the door myself. As I walked in, I softly called out. After setting down the groceries, I checked the rest of the apartment. He was gone.

"Wow." I said out loud.

Jonathan Crane walked down the hallway where he occasionally resides, feeling the irritating presence of Jessica Sterling trailing him. He purposely stopped, and Jessica walked right into him. The moment his files fell to the floor, Jessica had dropped to her knees to retrieve them.

"Doctor we need to have words." She urged, with lips covered in yesterdays faded pink. He deducted that she might have replaced her shower with a baby wipe. There were no doubts that she and Jessica were up late conducting experiments.

"About?" He asked flatly before adjusting his glasses.

"Allison and I conducted a test on a subject last night. We set the scene for white on patient number fourteen."

Crane raised a brow before cutting her off. "White is often associated with purity, but it is also associated with death. It's quite tricky, Jessica. Aiming for one may produce the other instead. From that information alone, I'm going to predict that your test showed… _neither._ "

She sighed, almost ready to stomp a foot. He was right again.

"The subject became aroused! I don't understand, we've been on him for weeks before doing this and we were positive that he would either die or purify his mind completely."

Crane exhaled before rolling his eyes. "I'm afraid this goes further than colors. This is more situational than you understand, Miss Sterling. Did you consider that if you and Allison were in the room with the patient, that there was a possibility that the drug would only enhance his interest for you?"

 _Oh my, you've really ripped into her haven't you? Maybe it's for the best, Johnny. You won't ever be able to cure me._

She licked her cracked lips."Remember something, Doctor. My patient never violently cut her wrists in her own bathtub. At least if one of mine ever killed themselves, we could cover it up."

He backhanded her, sending teeth flying into the closed cells.

 _He's letting me out…_

 _AN: The lyrics in this chapter are from "Passive" by A Perfect Circle._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I was incredibly sad and lonely. My parents hadn't called me, despite the fact that Christmas was two days away. This day would come, I knew it; the time I would realize that I should have cut them off first. Leave before you are left, I told myself often. However, it seemed I could never obey my own philosophy. It was just too simple for me, to wallow in depression. It wasn't something I necessarily enjoyed, it was just too easy. There wasn't really any pain, just the comfort of myself and my own bed.

Crane hadn't reached out to me. Why did I care? I guess because despite his dangerous attention, it still meant attention. I was important in his diabolical way. Part of me wouldn't have minded if he came back just to punch me in my face. At least someone took time out of their day to do that much.

I flipped through social media absent-mindedly, skimming across memes and videos about praising god, mostly posted by cousins, former co-workers, and school friends. There were a few local posts too, but I stopped on one that piqued my interest.

"The Gotham animal shelter has NO more room for cats! Two of our pregnant females have given birth and those kittens are ready, please adopt this holiday season!"

My teeth clenched together, knowing full well I couldn't resist the cute faces on my phone screen. Surely someone would probably take a kitten, maybe even two. So, I started thinking about the older ones. How long had they been there?

"God, damn it all to hell." I shrieked, throwing off my blanket and stomping into my jeans. "Why do I always have to be the sucker?"

I went to the store and bought two large bags of cat food, an eighty dollar cat tree, bowls, toys, and a cat crate. I'm sure my disheveled appearance scared the cashier, especially with the amount of shit I bought. There was a reason I was so angry with myself. Animals die, and when they leave, they break your heart. _But you're heart's the only one that's broken._

The shelter was pretty nice, almost worth the awful drive over the hill. You could see the sidewalk had been scooped up for dogs to take walks with volunteers, which was cool since people were obviously dedicated enough to excersize them despite the weather. I followed the path up to the tan building, glancing at the random paw prints in the snow. A couple walked past me, wearing matching hats and holding two kittens. Ah, the holidays.

"How can I help you?" The receptionist said, not even bothering to look up behind his glasses. He smelled like an over-worked student.

"I'm here to adopt some cats."

"Some cats? Like how many?" When he looked up, he was startled. "Uh, I'll have someone take you through."

I sat down in the lobby for a minute and waited for another college volunteer to bring me around. This one was a lot nicer than the other guy, super tiny like a fairy and didn't give me shit. She wore her pink hair in a bun; choppy bangs brushing over her eyebrow ring. "So let's take a walk and see who you connect with."

We walked through, seeing every silver cage on the wall was full. Some of the cats mewed a lot, while others just slept. I looked for the kittens, and saw they were all gone. There were some relatively young ones that I knew would go just as fast. "So, who's been here the longest?"

"Benny's been here for a year now." I followed her to a handsome tuxedo cat with yellow eyes. He just laid there, staring blankly ahead like he had just given up. "People look at him, but they tend to shy away since he's about seven years old."

"Which one is the oldest?"

She tapped on the cage next to him, a spritely white cat rolled on her back. "Persephone's nine, not that she act's it or anything. We found her two months ago with a broken leg. She's all healed up and ready to go."

I sighed, "Broken leg, huh?"

One of the cats kept crying. I searched for the source of the noise. All the way down at the bottom was a large silver shorthair, whining and crying like someone was killing him. "What's his problem?" I asked.

"Oh god, that's Adams. He's blind, and he's a seriously huge whiner. He's been hanging around the property forever; we just caught him last week." She took a deep breath. "There's so many, it's just so hard to keep up."

I mentally punched myself, but it didn't stop me from what I was about to do. "I'll just take all three of them, if that's cool."

Her eyes widened. "Really? Holy shit, yes. That would do so much for us. I mean, I'm not really sure I can let you have all three of them…and there's adoption fees too…"

"I'll give you one hundred to say they all ran away."

She peaked to her left and right, ensuring no one was around. Before I knew it, she was shaking my hand and getting the furballs ready for me to take.

Those three assholes were _not_ good on the drive home. Adams whined in the kitty crate while Persephone rolled her long white hair all over my seats and Benny chewed on the car charger. Still, once I got them settled in, I felt pretty good. Adams and Benny were good buddies, sitting with one another peacefully while I played with Persephone. The apartment wasn't so lonely anymore, and I started to feel like spending Christmas with the cats would be enough.

The door opened, slowly. My heart raced, in anger and anticipation. The familiar face cocked his head, confused; chestnut hair falling between his eyes before he brushed it back. Dr. Crane placed his papers on the coffee table next to me without a word.

"I'm quite aggravated, you know. This is _my_ house."

He chuckled lowly. "Yours or the cats?"

I scowled at him, practically burning holes into the back of his suit as he prepped a cup of coffee. "I'm not a convenience."

"You allow yourself to be. Besides, I said I'd be around for Christmas."

"More or less." I mumbled, turning back to the TV. Persephone jumped on my lap, making it much easier to ignore him.

"Things seem to be progressing." He chatted, taking a seat next to me. "For the good."

"I'm guessing that's what you've been doing for the past few days?"

"I've been studying memories and associations; more specifically, how we associate certain things pertaining to our memories."

I raised my brow, slowly turning my head. "You're usually not this open."

Adams squeaked at Crane. He wrapped his beautiful fingers around the cat and held him in his lap. "I like this one."


End file.
